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A 

r LADY 

A 


HUCKLEBERRY 

ENLARGES ON HER 

HOSBAl’S FOLLIES. 



A CONTINUATION OF THE 

“Irene ggillicnddy” 



F PERS. 

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Lady Hdcklebeeey 

ExXlarges on Her Husband’s Follies! 

A CONTINUATION OF THE 

" Irene Macgillicuddy Papers.” 

AND 

A ROMANCE OF A YACHTING PARTY, 

THAT IS MORE THAN ROMANTIC. 



BY 


J. R. S. ^ND M. B. H. 






’!(■- 


NEW YORK: 

Copyright, 187S, by 

G. IV, Carleton & Co,, Publishers, 

LONDON : S. LOW & CO. 
MDCCCLXXVIII. 

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Samuel Stoddeb, 
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90 Ann Street, N. Y. 


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Printino and Book Bindino Co 
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CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Lady Huckleberiiy 7 

Romance of a Yachting J*arty 99 


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EXTRACT 


FROM A, LETTER TO THE PUBLISHERS. 


“ ‘Lady Huckleberry ’ is, in one sense of the word, 
a world of the imagination. It is a novel, in heirug unlike 
any work of fiction, in style, matter or development of in- 
terest. Evidently there has been a striving after originality, 
hut not such an exclusive striving as to cause plain English to 
he neglected. There is more depth to the hook than is likely 
to appear on a first perusal. The comic element is in abund- 
ance for the ske of the work, hut is not at aU an imitation dr 
an adaptation of Punch or Eickens, — in fact the hook is 
unique in every respect, and it might not inappropriately 
he called a literary curiosity.” 


[T] 



LADY HUCKLEBEREY 


ENLARGES ON HER HUSBAND’S FOLLIES. 


As I arose from my knees one lovely evening 
last hunting season, and gazed from the windows 
of my palatial residence near London, with the far- 
off look of one whose thoughts are wool-gathering, 
into the pensive face of the man who supplies the 
non-explosive, non-flickering, soft, and even illu- 
minating kerosene to the moon, I was haunted 
by a strong desire to do something to benefit my 
fellow beings, worthy of one who occupies, as I do, 
a high and influential position. Some spirit of 
meditation seemed to say to me then. Does not 
that lesser sphere that does its shining in a second- 
ary way, that illuminates, flrst a man, and second- 
arily the world, remind you of the sphere of woman; 
not only because it is round, but because it shines 
with a borrowed and indirect, and consequently, 
with a softer and more bewitching light than the 

[ 7 ] 


8 


LADT HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


sun, and also because it needs a man to supply the 
wherewithal to keep it shining? And does it not 
strike you that it is the woman who has an ambi- 
tion to do something for the benefit of mankind 
with her pen, who shines with most of the beams 
of the sun, who is most glorious in the moon-like 
aspect of illumination. Blue-stockings often shine 
with a softer and more benignant light in the 
world than male authors, and it is because they re- 
flect the rays of wisdom upon the earth of the 
strongest men, and not, as some men do, of the 
weakest and most depraved among their sex. 

To write in a less stilted style. As I gazed at 
the moon on the night to which I have been refer- 
ring, an ambitiop to do something with my pen for 
the benefit of humanity came upon me with great 
strength. Ah ! to have such an ambition when one 
belongs to the feminine gender is to be among the 
martyrs to Fashion, whose attention was on such 
high and deep things that they were above pain 
and fear. Ah, yes ! to have such an ambition is 
to have a spirit that can laugh at Fashion’s storm- 
ing. Yes, as he laughed in scorn at the elements 
who said : — 

The loud storm wind howls on the sea, 

And I am aboard of a ship, 

That is wrecked and sinking gradually ; 

I am taking my last long trip. 


ON HER HUSBANHS FOLLIES. 


9 


But where I was going He knows, 

Who gave me the spirit to go, 

And preach to the heathen where flows. 

The Nile in its rhythmical flow. 

* • * ^ He Sh 

Thou, Fear, art not strong as this deep. 

Pain, thou’rt not able to fly. 

Far as my spirit can keep 
An upward flight in this sky. 

^ 4 : ^ * 4 : 

Whether one is fair and slender, a gentle re- 
minder of the water-lily, that sways to and fro in 
the zephyrous wind — whether one is “ red as a rose,” 
a reminder of the blushes on the lovely maiden’s 
cheeks, just as her lover bounces up impulsively to 
kiss her pouting lips — even whether one is hand- 
some or ugly, to have an ambition to write or 
preach for the heathen (and are not all fashionable 
people heathens ? Are not, I mean to ask, the ser- 
vile followers of Fashion, worshippers of idols ? 
And it is the heathen only, who in his blindness, 
you know, &c., <fcc.) * * However this or that 

may be, helps one to be strong, fearless, and noble, 
but also out of fashion. What woman of fashion has 
such an ambition ? Irene Macgillicuddy had such 
an ambition, but not until after she found out that 
Fashion is a foolish female knave, did she knock 
out of Fashion’s hand her monogram fan, and pull 
off from Fashion’s lily-white fingers, her gewgaw 


10 LADY nUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


rings, and strip her of her charaeleon-hued bou- 
quets. Irene, my dear readers, did not bounce up 
to Fashion for nothing. Irene Macgillicuddy was 
not formed from sluggislf protoplasm. She did not 
waste much time in sporting with the fickle god- 
dess, as a cat wastes time sporting with a mouse. 
Irene was fond of playing with her prey like a cat 
sometimes, but she was also, sometimes, quick as a 
cat in bouncing on her victim. Why, quick as I 
can write down the fact for your reading, my dear 
public, Irene bounced up to the goddess Fashion, 
and seized her by the long locks of her lovely hair, 
— partly false it is true, but too well secured with 
the female indefatigable attention to such details 
to come out in her hand, — and gave her a good 
sound box on the ears. Yes, as quick as Lord 
Huckleberry pulls in a trout, — rather, I should have 
written, as quick as a trout snaps at one of my hus- 
band’s fiies. I have a noble respect for Irene now, 
because she did give Fashion what she has been 
needing so long, — a good box on the ears. I did 
not care for Irene with more than a surface, selfish 
liking before, when she made a fool and a friend of 
Fashion, and tricked her out in jewels, silks, and 
laces, and with all the most tasty of the vanitas 
vanitatestitems of the female wardrobe. But 
Irene Macgillicuddy hunted Fashion as near the 
death as she hunts anything. Irene is a great 


OJSr HER HUSBAND^S FOLLIES. 


11 


hunter anyway. I am reminded of this fact be- 
cause I see from my window, as I write, the 
Huckleberry pack being attended to, preparatory 
, to their going on the scent shortly. When Irene 
bounces in her saddle, and dashes through the 
country with Tam O’Shanter celerity, one has to 
admire her with gaping admiration. Irene is too 
tender-hearted to hunt her game quite to the 
death, however : when she comes up to the leap- 
ing, bounding, animal with her dogs, who are 
taught not to hurt the game seriously, she calls off 
her hunting animals, and the game is free. 

Oh, the tender-hearted author of the tender 
recollections, who gave me a peep at the heart of 
folly, is a trump. Since she gave me a peep at the 
heart of fashionable folly, I feel that, American 
girl as I am, I disgraced myself a little bit in the 
eyes of sensible people, by intriguing as I did to 
marry a member of the English aristocracy, who 
thinks horses and hounds as good, perhaps, as 
human beings on the whole. How I do not think 
any too little of a good horse myself. I can 
bounce through the country on one nearly as 
quickly and gracefully as Irene Macgillicuddy, I 
have ridden out so much of late with my husband. 
Yes ! yes ! with my good horse Huckleberry be- 
neath me, I can manifest the poetry of motion 
with dash and verve. My horse Huckleberry 


13 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


knows me so well that I can stop him gradually 
when going his fastest gait with just a pat on the 
neck. I must admit that I think being on horse- 
back behind the Huckleberry pack in full cry brings 
nerve-exhilo ! rating pleasure — to feel the wind 
rush past your cheeks — to move through space with 
a speed but little short of the speed of an arrow 
flying through the air — to know that you are con- 
trolling the direction of your motion — is to have, 
for the time being, a pleasurable sense of lightness, 
and power. Ah ! but I digress. Some one has said 
that a female writer is always digressing. This 
is a slander, of course — but I must tell you to be- 
gin with, my dear public, that it will be necessary 
for me to digress once in awhile to make my nar- 
rative of Lord Huckleberry’s follies interesting to 
those who weary soon of any writing but the sen- 
sational novel of the sterotyped description. * * 

I could give here the sterotype ordinary novel a 
rub, my dear public, concerning its non-originality, 
my dear public, but where you see stars in my 
book, or spaces large, know, my reader, I forbear 
doing what I might do, or saying what I might 
say further in the connection. ^ ^ ^ 

Talking about horses, I believe my husband 
loves me a little better than any horse he owns, 
or any dog, but I am not sure that he loves me 
better than his flies — trout flies I refer to, of 


ON HER HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


13 


course. My husband is a great admirer of Isaac 
AValton, and an indefatigable reader of his book on 
angling. When I meet Mr. Bergh, I must ask him 
to tell me if he knows of any way to make my hus- 
band see that it is cruel to hook the poor innocent 
trout, that snaps up and devours the poor innocent 

fly- 

My husband admires Henry Bergh very much, 
I am glad to say. Only the other day I heard my 
husband say something like this : “ Henry Bergh, 
that noble animalitarian, seems to me is the only 
man in America that knows that a good horse or 
dog is worth more than a poor man.” * * * * 

And, my stars, you should have seen my hus- 
band, my dear readers, and you should have heard 
him storm about the dining-room, the morning he 
read at the breakfast-table from one of the great 
American journals, the Hew York Herald^ a 
wicked man’s proposition to kill Bergh off with 
hydrophobia, and send him to the land where 
cruelty to animals is unknown, where they are 
never tortured, unless men of science torture 
their spirits when they analyze mind stuff. “ Mind 
stuff” is Baron Dickshatband’s name for spirit. 
I believe he borrowed the term from a beetling 
high-browed English scientist that is like a ford 
beside a cliff. Oh ! dear me, these English 
scientists, Obadiah Thompkins says, are able to 


14 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


materialize mind, or to make it all stuff at short 
notice. Like the German nihilists they think they 
can make a world out of nothing, and resolve it 
with a breath into nothing again. Yes, there 
seem to be Englishmen smart enough to material- 
ize the human mind that once supposed-to-be-im- 
mortal entity without parts or composition of 
atoms. 

But let me get back to Bergh, in order that I 
may say that I have read in the New York Even- 
ing Telegram^ that Bergh was not fool enough to 
be innoculated with what goes by the name of 
hydrophobia virus, even though offered |1,000 if 
he would be innociilated with it, and even though 
Bergh does not believe there is any such thing as 
hydrophobia. Bergh is a sensible man, and if it 
was not for Isaac Walton’s sentimentalism (and no- 
body knows what else his book on angling is ad- 
mired for,) Bergh would have little or no trouble in 
breaking up my husband’s desire to torture poor 
little fish. My husband storms about the house if 
I mislay a protoplastic fly, or cut off a piece of cat- 
gut that I find dangling from one of the drawers 
of my best bureau. My husband tells me that 
Simon Peter, and the best men of the Scriptures I 
love so much, were fishermen, and asks, with 
amazed expression of countenance, why do I always 
speak about fishing as though it was an occupation 


ON HER UUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


15 


unworthy of a Huckleberry. My husband is a 
good hand at an argument, and he always beats 
me when I argue with him against fishing. I have 
heard it said that men as a general rule are much 
better reasoners than woman ; that they are better 
at an argument — less impulsive and more logical — 
and I am half inclined to believe it is so, for when- 
ever I get into an argument with Lord Huckleberry 
he always worsts me ; but as soon as I leave off 
arguing with him I can twist him around my fin- 
ger, metaphorically speaking, in the direction of 
my desires concerning everything but my desire 
to stop him from fishing in the season. In this 
particular he will follow his own wicked incli- 
nation. He goes angling as soon as the angling 
season commences, and, unlike the hunting-season 
that I can enjoy with him, the fishing season brings 
me long separations from him. I can go along 
with him when he hunts, but alas ! when he fishes. 
Oh ! alas ! alas ! Why did I bait my hook to 
catch such a man-fish. I mean such a fish-man. I 
ought to have caught Chowder, but he is a fish-man. 
They say clams are shell-fish, but I love my hus- 
band with all his follies, and I never could love 
Chowder as I love him. So now you are married, 
<fec., &c. I don’t think I will ever be able to wean 
my husband from his inordinate love of fishing. I 
don’t believe he will forget his great love of fish- 


16 LADY EUCKLEBEERT ENLARGES 


ing until he forgets himself in death ; which I hope 
may not be until he is old and well-stricken in 
years. Well ! after all, I would rather have my 
husband as a husband than any other man in the 
wide, wide .world. 

As I look upon Lord Huckleberry sitting at 
the breakfast-table, of a hunting morning, I feel 
proud of him, and I often impulsively bounce up 
to him, and kiss again and again his aristocratic 
moustached lips. I am so desirous of being always 
near him, that I know I must love him devotedly, 
and sometimes I am so jealous of him that I think, 
if he had married another girl, I would have died 
of a broken heart. One day, when my husband 
threw a spoony look at me, and said that he once 
thought that his fate in the matrimonial line was 
to be an English girl, I was so jealous, for fear he 
was sorry that his wife was not an English girl, 
instead of poor American me, that I made him tell 
me about his flirtations. 

The most important of his youthful escapades 
had reference to this English girl he once thought 
was to be his wife. I gathered from him, in this 
connection, that the late Mr. Softsoap, a tradesman 
who lived in London on one of the streets my hus- 
band passed through on his road to a coffee-house 
or inn, that at that time, he says, he frequently 
visited, because, at the fishing season, it was an 


OJSr^ HEM HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


17 


angler’s meeting place, had a beautiful daughter, 
who generally managed to be sitting at the front 
window .when my husband passed by her house. 
My husband became enamored of her demure, 
down-cast eyes, her lovely oval face with pink 
cheeks, her full, perfect mouth, with red, pouting 
lips, and her full but petite form. When just 
above his head her downcast eyes came in sight, 
he tells me that the human heart in his bosom was 
rocked violently to and fro as he sang to himself : 

Oh ! those eyes of tenderness, 

Oh ! those tender, sparkling eyes. 

Why my heart with pain sm’prise. 

If love for me your looks express ? 

Ah ! up among the starlight. 

The eyes of those that here, 

Flashed with lovely splendor. 

Trembled without fear ; 

Peeped above cheeks rosy fair, 

Laughed below locks dark and light, 

Above the full red lips we’ve kissed, 

The eyes of lovely women missed. 

Look upon us every night. 

Oh I if they flash in Heaven, 

Oh ! if they gleam above, 

- If there hearts are driven 
Back and fortli with love ; 

2 


18 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


With love of women’s lovely eyes, 

That here with love our hearts surprise, — 

Then up among the stars bright. 

In the upper realms of air. 

There is pain mixed with delight, 

There is wistfulness and care ; 

There is desire there of might — 

Desire that angels should not share. 

My husband says he sang the above song often 
and often to himself standing beneath Miss Soft- 
soap’s window’, gazing into her beautiful eyes, and 
thinking how he had better address her ladyship — 
if a tradesman’s daughter can be called her lady- 
ship. My husband once said to me that only the 
wives and daughters of noblemen can be called 
ladies by the aristocracy of England with pro- 
priety. Nevertheless, Lord Huckleberry says he 
believes that the world is destined to become as 
democratic as the church should be. The church 
should be, according to Lord Huckleberry, a body 
of communists in the best and highest sense of the 
word ‘‘ Commune.” No one should wear a silk or 
satin dress in a church edifice that they would be 
afraid to rustle against a calico. My husband has 
no patience with aristocratic ideas in America. 
He has a logical mind, and he thinks an American 
an inconsistent weakling w'ho is doing anything 


ON HER HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


19 


to further the spread of aristocratic principles in 
the United States of America. He has asked with 
a look of scorn for his audience more than once, of 
Americans who pride themselves on being aristo- 
cratic, what they mean by their glorious country’s 
freedom, — what they mean by calling one edu- 
cated, polite, refined, Christian female a lady, and 
another, as good a Christian, as polite, as educated, 
as refined as she, a woman. 

I will not attempt to defend, then, my calling 
Miss Softsoap her ladyship on logical principles. 
The women of the present day seldom have log- 
ical minds, and it’s lucky for the popinjay-minded 
men most women have as admirers, suitors and 
butterfly flatterers, that woman are seldom logical 
reasoners, for if they were often so, I would pity, 
from the bottom of my heart, the most of the male 
portion of the so-called polite society of our period. 

Ladyship or womanship, whichever it is, logi- 
cally, or illogically, — nevertheless, notwithstand- 
ing, — my husband tells me that Miss Softsoap 
was a person of refinement, a very beautiful girl 
with large violet eyes, and a love-beseeching ex- 
pression, that he met her one rainy day on P. R. 
street, in London, — (N. B. It must always rain in 
London, to keep up the city’s reputation of being 
the queen of the water god, who rules her hus- 
band, of course. Almost all women do. Alas ! alas ! 


20 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


that men will deny and sell their birthright of 
lordship for peace or a pretty face, — like Sampson, 
let his wife be his doom by giving her in one sense 
his strength. You know that this, alas, alas, is so 
— forget the rhyme, but remember the truth in this 
parenthetic sentence) — there he saw her on the 
sidewalk, trying to make a sleepy cab-driver hear 
her musical hail. My husband hailed the cab for 
her, and put her into it. She rewarded him wtih 
a sweet smile, and one of her love-beseeching 
looks. He says he asked her whether he could 
ride home with her, and that she answered that 
it would give her great pleasure to have him do 
so. ********* 

When I think of the power of the starry eyes 
of lovely women, says my husband, I am reminded 
of the ride I had with the charming Miss Soft- 
soap, that rainy day in London. Oh ! exclaims 
Lord Huckleberry, what lovely violet eyes Miss 
SoftsoajD had. Perhaps she had brown eyes. Few 
men can tell the color of the eyes upon which they 
have gazed with enthusiastic admiration, an hour 
after they have withdrawn from them their admir- 
ing look. 

Most men, at any rate, my experience and ob- 
servation tells me, find it hard to describe with 
any minuteness of description the eyes they ad- 
mire, when it comes to the telling of their color to 


ON HER HUSBANNS FOLLIES. 


21 


their sisters or their wives, or to the girls to which 
they are engaged to be married. 

I have known men to be in a young lady’s 
company for hours, who was dressed in blue, tell 
their wives, sisters, or betrothed ones, when they 
inquired how the young lady from whose presence 
they just came was dressed, that she was dressed 
in a beautiful dark brown silk. 4: * * 

Of course my husband, though he admired the 
lovely eyes of Miss Softsoap, which he says were 
violet as to hue, and which I think were blue — 
rhyme. I am, as you perceive, a jDoetess. Bless 
your soul, I do not, however, like any too well the 
role — had too great a respect for his noble birth, 
or too great a fear of what his mother would say, 
to propose a regular kind of marriage to her, — 
€., a public one, — though he says he loved her pas- 
sionately. Passionately means sensually — if it 
means the way most men love the women to 
whom they propose secret marriage, or elope- 
ment. They love them as the lion loves the 
lioness — because they are beautiful animals. 
Yes ! yes ! Because they are beautiful — beautiful 
women ? No ! no ! Because they are beautiful 
animals ! Yes, animals. 

This digression brings me back to Henry 
Borgh. Mr. Bergh loves animals, I suppose, as 
the men I have been considering love the human 


22 LADT HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


beings of the female gender to whom they propose 
clandestine marriage. * % ^ 

The last time I met the noble animalitarian, 
what did he say about his passionate love of the 
horse ? Did he not say that he loved the horse’s 
large, beseeching, expressioned eyes of fire — the 
horse’s eyes, that have a mingled expression of 
dignity and tenderness in them ? Bergh, I am 
inclined to think, finds in the eye of a horse we 
consider worn-out and worth not more than five 
dollars or thereabouts, all that my husband. Lord 
Huckleberry, found in the eyes of Miss Softsoap, 
that he says he loved so passionately. Good men, 
it is said, are rare, who propose elopement or clan- 
destine marriage to the girls that are loved by 
them truly. True love will withstand, we all are 
aware, the shock of circumstances, the disfigure- 
ments of sickness, the ravages of time. But pas- 
sionate love ! what, oh, what will that withstand ? 
Why, nothing worth speaking about in the Mac- 
gillicuddy papers. Oh ! Lord Huckleberry ! my 
husband ! my loved one ! my dear one ! You say 
you loved the beautiful Miss Softsoap passionately. 
Oh, my ! oh, my ! * * * 

Oh ! what would I not give to possess, for a 
week or two, the eyes of a handsome young 
bachelor, so that by going to some fashionable 
resort, I might look at the marriageable young 


OiV" HER HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


23 


girls as handsome young men look at them, and 
experience the kind of emotion that is raised in 
their breasts when they gaze at our charming sex. 

But no one can enter fully into the feelings of 
another ; there are deeps that the human heart 
holds sacred. It is said that men in this world 
cannot and do not have the same feelings and 
emotions as women ; they may, man and woman, 
both gaze at the same thing, but each lives, while 
doing so, in respect to the inward and most real 
life, in a world peculiarly his or her own. Each 
lives in a world more or less unknown to the 
other. Each lives in a world of his or her own 
evolution. 

My^ husband’s world was, at the time of his 
passion for Miss Softsoap, a world that was filled 
with sugar instead of a world filled — as Irene Mac- 
gillicuddy says the world we live in is filled — with 
sawdust, if not in reality, at least in seeming. 

Lord Huckleberry rode home with this beautiful 
Miss Softsoap, and of course made love to her in 
the cab. Did a young Englishman ever forget 
that he knows how to make love when he is by the 
side of a beautiful young girl, and away from ob- 
servation ? I guess not, I hope not, I trust not, for 
a young American bachelor by the side of a beau- 
tiful girl, away from the gaze of Mrs. Grundy’s 


24 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


eyes, never fails to make love to her. I might as 
well say and be done with it, and that this latter 
remark is true, is one of the things I know. 

I used to sit by the men. What am I giving 
you ? I mean, I used to have my eyes praised and 
admired by the gentlemen. 

I believe I am getting jealous of Miss Softsoap. 
A wife don’t like to give herself or husband away 
in talking or writing about a former love. Hence 
my roundabout method of letting the public know 
how my husband flirted with Miss Softsoap. Lord 
Huckleberry’s mother was living at the time of 
his flirtation with her, and she told him not to 
marry any girl but a nobleman’s daughter. But 
what do you think, my dear public ? Why ! my 
husband proposed a secret marriage to Miss Soft- 
soap on this very account. 

Oh ! I never knew, until I knew this, that my 
husband was as much under parental government 
as poor Chowder was when he proposed to Irene 
Macgillicuddy at Niagara Falls. 

Ah ! these mothers, what influence they have 
over their strong-willed, strong-headed sons, and 
how little influence they have over their weak- 
willed, weak-headed daughters ! Just think, aristo- 
cratic mother, whose son has fallen in love with a 
girl you think beneath you socially, what you make 
that son sacrifice when you tell him that you 


ON HER HUSBANHS FOLLIES. 


25 


never will be reconciled to his marrying the girl 
of his choice. If that son of yours really loves the 
girl you think he must not marry, he will propose, 
most likely, as Lord Huckleberry did, clandestine 
marriage to her, and your death or reconciliation 
to the inevitable consequences is the onlj^ thing 
that will give you your son’s maternal esteem. 
But what am I moralizing about? Had not Lord 
Huckleberry proposed clandestine marriage to 
Miss Softsoap, and had not Miss Softsoap been a 
girl of spirit, who refused to listen to any such pro- 
posal, I would not now be Lady Huckleberry, as I 
am ; for without a doubt if my husband had made 
a regular proposal of marriage to Miss Softsoap, 
and had said nothing about keeping secrecy in the 
matter to her, she would not have told him, as she 
did, that she felt herself insulted by his matri- 
monial oifer. 

I think I would have boxed Lord Huckleberry’s 
ears, had he proposed clandestine marriage to me. 
But I am an American girl, you know. 

English girls rarely have our spirit in these 
matters, and even Miss Softsoap’s spirit is rare, I 
am led to believe, among them. I think most 
English tradesmen’s daughters would have accep- 
ted Lord Huckleberry’s offer of marriage, notwith- 
standing the clandestine proposal that accom- 
panied it. But then Lord Huckleberry is a great 


2C LADT RUGKLEBERRT ENLARGES 


man in my estimation, even though he is in some 
respects a foolish one. ♦ 

After being refused by Miss Softsoap, my hus- 
band consoled himself by giving most of his spare 
time to horse-racing and gambling. 

The horse is a noble animal, and often and 
often I have one beneath me, — but what pleasure 
can a man find in having his favorite horse be- 
neath a jockey on a race track? Cards are well 
enough as playthings, when one plays with them 
one’s self, — but what pleasure is it to look on and 

see some one else play them at a faro bank ? 

^ 

Horse-racing and gambling, my husband, who 
happens to be now standing behind me, informs 
me, are not vices. Almost every, if not every 
nobleman, says he, races horses, and takes a turn 
at cards. He asserts, further, even the dignitaries 
of the Church of England keep fast horses in their 
stables, and a pack or two of cards in their libra- 
ries. * * * ^ 

Can I be mistaken in thinking gambling a 
vice ? Perhaps I am, and perhaps I had not bet- 
ter decide in these pages on the merits or demerits 
of gambling. At any rate, before saying any- 
thing more on gambling, I will inform the public 
that Miss Softsoap, that started this gambling 
digression, was married with great eclat in St. 


ON HER HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


27 


P Church, London, to a man who is always 

aieing, and whose aleings his wife wishes would 
never grow less. My husband calls her husband a 
bloated tradesman. 

What attraction Miss S saw in the man 

she married, my husband says he could not see at 
the time. He says he thought then, that when 
once a woman was favored by a proposal of mar- 
riage from a nobleman, she could never stoop to 
listen to one from a tradesman. Ah ! Lord 
Huckleberry exclaims, when talking about Miss 
Softsoap, like all the rest of her sex, she was a 
creature of impulse, and being a creature of im- 
pulse, she acted in a way incomprehensible to a 
man’s logical mind. One day a woman is proud 
as Lucifer, and next day humble as Lazarus. 

:{; ^ ^ 4 : 

I wonder why it is myself, sometimes, that 
women do not possess the bump of reason as large 
as men. I wonder, by the by, whether there are 
bumps for every faculty we possess — bumps at 
the bottom of every action we perform. I wonder, 
among all my wondering, if there is a bump of 
fishing, for instance, and if so, I wonder how large 
it is under my husband’s dark brown, gray- 
besprinkled locks. I am a great wonderer when 
once I start at wondering. I wonder whether 
Isaac Walton’s head resembled my husband’s pate. 


28 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


Isaac Walton must have had, it seems to me, if 
phrenology is true, a head very much like Lord 
Huckleberry’s on his lazy shoulders. Isaac W al- 
ton, I know, must have been lazy, from what he 
says in his book on angling. But Isaac Walton, I 
think in the sluggish protoplasm formation, must 
have been more like Chowder than Huckleberry. 

In my wondering, I wonder if it would do to 
ask Obadiah Thompkins to examine my husband’s 
skull. I guess not, for my husband says that 
though he believes in the general principles and 
outlines of phrenology — believes that size ^and 
shape of brain are indicators of size and shape of 
intellect, yet he does not believe that bumps on 
the skull show size and shape of brain. I fear this 
being thus and so, it would not do to ask Obadiah 
Thompkins, in my husband’s presence, to examine 
my husband’s head, to find out how large his 
bump of fishing may be. My husband would 
ridicule this kind of phrenology in the presence of 
Obadiah Thompkins, and make me feel cheap as a 
believer in what he calls bumpology. According 
to my husband’s view of phrenology, only when 
tlie head examiners combine phrenology with 
physiognomy will they be able to tell much about 
the persons they examine. ^ ^ ^ % 

I felt of Lord Huckleberry’s liead, to see if I 
could find any peculiar bumps on his skull, and I 


ON HER HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


29 


found three or four besides what I took to be the 
bump of fishing, because it was the largest bump 
he had. The other and slightly smaller bumps 
must be the bumps of drinking and gambling. 

I believe I told you, my readers, that my hus- 
band said to me lately that gambling is not a vice. 
He said then that those considered the best of our 
Christian people often gamble, as you remember I 
also told you. And he tried to make it plain to 
me, something in this way. If, says he, a man 
buys a house on speculation of a person who occu- 
pies it, but, on account of poverty, is forced to 
sell it for less than he would if he could afford to 
hold it, that buyer gambles, because he does not 
need the house, and the man he buys it of does 
need it. You see, the buyer is a speculator at the 
expense of his neighbor. Such a speculator you 
must admit is a gambler. 

Lord Huckleberry is too much for me when he 
gets to arguing ; but though he worsts me in argu- 
ment, I am not convinced against my education in 
this particular. And it is against my education to 
believe that so many Christians are gamblers, or 
that gambling is not a vice. Lord Huckleberry is 
my husband and a gambler, so I would like to be- 
lieve that there is no sin in gambling ; but some- 
thing tells me that it is sinful to risk money on 
cards, or on races. But it may be that that some- 


30 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


thing, called conscience, I believe, was wrongly 
educated in this regard. Can it be that my hus- 
band is right when he says that, with slight excep- 
tions, every nobleman in England, and every man 
in America, gambles ? My husband has been read- 
ing Schopenhauer a great deal lately ; he has the 
book in his hand as I write, and he says that Scho- 
penhauer has informed him that there is a great 
gambler in existence called the unconscious one, 
whose gambling would put to the blush the play 
of those who break the bank almost every night. 
This unconscious one always holds a good hand, 
and wins nearly every game, according to Schopen- 
hauer, that he plays with Englishmen or Ameri- 
cans. It seems when he plays Bluff, sexual love 
is the little joker. 

To hear my husband tell about the games of 
the unconscious one, would make you laugh to 
split your sides ; but the funniest thing to me is 
that when Lord Huckleberry tells how the uncon- 
scious one plays a man against a woman he never 
smiles, but puts on an earnest, solemn expression of 
countenance. 

Falling in love, according to Schopenhauer, is 
the greatest sin a man can commit. According to 
him, as I understand him, no matter how many 
charms a man may think a woman possesses, he 
should not allow himself to fall in love with her. 


ON HER HUSBAND^S FOLLIES, 


31 


The will in every man should be powerful enough 
to 1‘egulate his passions, and regulate even 'his fall- 
ing in love, and continuing in it when he has fallen 
there, I admit, but I do not admit that it is right 
for a man to will himself out of love, after he has 
been weak enough to fall into it, Schopenhauer 
and Hartmann to the contrary notwithstanding. 
Can it be possible that Schopenhauer would have 
a young lover betray his sweetheart ? Oh ! Scho- 
penhauer. Oh ! Hartmann. Oh ! Hart by name, 
but without heart by nature, have you ever read 
that touching little poem called “ Betrayed ?” If 
not, you will be able to read it with profit in these 
papers. Here it is. 

BETRAYED. 

I saw them gather in bright eyes, 

Tears for a loved one’s frown, 

As dew that on the green grass lies, 

Gathers as evening comes on. 

I saw them suddenly grow white, 

Cheeks, but a moment before 
Rosy, and flushed with delight, 

That blushes will paint nevermore. 

’Tis foolish, my fair one, he said, 

To weep any more for me. 

The love I once bore you is dead — 

Dead, as I’ve willed it to be. 


33 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 

Indeed I cannot see Low it can be, when joy- 
does laugh within one’s heart, and the red blood 
courses to one’s cheeks at the words “ I love,” that 
all this is only because Schopenhaeur’s unconscious 
one is j^laying one’s heart as a trump, to take a 
trick on account of pain, — when one is kissed. 
When nay husband kisses me, and calls me his love- 
liest own, his dearest dear, how can it be that my 
joy is not real, but only an illusion of the uncon- 
scious one of Schopenhauer and Hartmann ? 

Well I may ask how can it be, for it cannot be, 
I know, at all ; Schopenhauer or Hartmann must 
have dreamt this nonsense about the unconscious 
one. It is another one of my husband’s follies — 
this love he has for German pessimism. 

Ah ! my poor husband has many follies, but 
one consolation I can take to my soul is, that he is 
no worse than the rest of the English noblemen ; 
and let Schopenhauer write all the pessimistic 
nonsense he will, and let Hartmann declaim against 
love, and say that the great passion brings but 
restlessness and desire that cannot be sensuously 
satisfied, they cannot make a single woman cease 
to love, or cease to try to charm the men to love 
them, or can they make the goddess Fashion break 
her heart, or the little god Love his bow. * * * 

Irene Thompkins broke Fashion’s heart, like, 
when, bounding through the country last hunting- 


ON HER HUSBANHS FOLLIES. 


33 


season on her good steed, Obadiah, she broke her 
saddle-girth and rolled over in a heap on the grass. 

She was riding, on this occasion, through one 
of my husband’s fields, and my husband happened 
to be near her when she fell. He sprang towards 
her, caught her in his arms, and, I believe, held 
her there for about half an hour, for she was in- 
sensible ; for when the news of the mishap came to 
my ears, I left the house immediately and started 
for the scene of the accident, and before I had got 
a couple of rods on my course, I met my husband 
coming towards our house, carrying Mrs. Thomp- 
kins. 

I think I would have interested Schopenhauer 
in my case, could he have heard me speak against 
the unconscious one in my husband’s embrace. 
What I said, few dictionaries contain, as when I 
use unladylike words I use peculiar ones. * * * 

But poor Irene Thompkins was too sick to be 
moved away from our house until about a week 
after this fall from her horse, and Obadiah came 
and stayed with her during this sojourn of hers at 
the Huckleberry mansion. And while my hus- 
band talked to the learned Irene, I talked to the 
learned Obadiah. So both Lord Huckleberry and 
I were happy during the stay of the Thompkinses 
at our villa, in having our little innocent flirta- 
tions. I say both, but my husband tells me that 
3 


34 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 

Mrs. Thompkins is as staid and soker as a hlas^ 
blue-stocking, and that she continually refers, in 
her learned talks, to the works of Schopenhauer 
and Hartmann. But this will do to tell to the 
marines, not to intelligent people like the readers 
I hope to interest in these papers. 

I have closely observed my husband in the 
presence of Mrs. Thompkins more than once, and, 
ah ! I have seen with, I must admit it, a pang of 
jealousy, his flame-colored eyes sparkle with de- 
light, while Irene talked to him of as tender expe- 
riences as any that she gave to the public in her 
“ tender recollections.” 

Ah, my ! I must say again, my poor husband is 
not perfect, but he is no worse than the rest of 
English noblemen — or noblemen of much higher 
rank than my Huckleberry. I have in mind who 
is less innocent than my husband in his flirtations. 
One thing is certain, — I am not sorry I married 
Lord Huckleberry, though I am enlarging on his 
follies. I am told, and I believe, that further than 
being as good as the majority of English noble- 
men, my husband is just as good as the majority 
of the moneyed aristocracy of the United States 
of America. 

If I had to choose and win a husband again, I 
don’t suppose I could do better than I have done 
in securing Lord Huckleberry. Life anyway is 


ON HER HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


35 


not long enough to be spent in vain regrets, so 
then let me say merely in this connection that I 
wish sometimes that I had married a man with less 
immoral follies, — a clergyman, for instance, — but I 
would have far to go to find one without foolisli- 
ness enough in his composition to stick D.D. after 
his name, or “ my lord ” before it. Call no clergy- 
man lord, let me add D.D., unless you want to 
make it appear that he is too foolish and worldly 
— too proud for a follower of the One who has 
proclaimed in the Book of books, that He is meek 
and lowly of heart. Ah ! the lords bishops, and 
the D. D.’s, do they never commit worldly follies ? 
This line of thought recalls a story to my recollec- 
tion about a D.D., and, as I have warned my readers 
that I intend to digress once in awhile in these 
papers, I will tell the D.D. story here, without 
further prelude. * ^ ^ 

Once upon a time, there might have been seen 
a fine looking D. D., riding on a solitary horse's 
back — rather on the saddle that the solitary horse 
was decorated withal. This story about the D.D. 
is not a love story, I wish my readers to under- 
stand at the very commencement of the tale, and 
I promise a tale without a tail. Clergymen know 
that the tender passion runs, so to speak, in contact 
with the bumps one has — phrenologically speaking. 
I mean, of course. And that a man, knowing that 


36 LADY HUGKLEBEEBY ENLARGES 


he will be limited and governed by what he loves, 
as a clergyman generally does know, you know — 
if he has the bump of reason large, he governs 
his falling in love by the bump of reason, and falls 
in love according to reason’s dictates ; if he has the 
bump of animality large, he allows himself to be 
driven about like a slave, by the woman he falls 
in love with. So, after all, the love Lord Huckle- 
berry bears me is governed by his bump of fishing. 
If there is such a bump, my husband certainly 
has it, and well developed. Every man who has 
a bump of reason, should use it to regulate his 
falling in love, I adnnt ; for what was man given 
more of the bump of reason than woman, if not 
because he is to govern his passions by it. Phil- 
osophers say that woman is like the soul, man like 
the spirit. What is the difference between the 
soul and the spirit ? I cannot tell my readers until 
I have consulted Obadiah Thompkins, so I will 
proceed with my story about the clergyman. This 
clergyman sang these clerical snatches of song : 

I heard two voices speaking to my heart, 

One said that time has slain, 

Its power with ecstasy to start, 

And smile at joy again. 

Then it can smile at pain, 
****:)« 

When he speaketh to the heart, 

Says calmly bear thy smart, 


OiVr UER HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


37 


When he says, oh I troubled soui, 

Bear calmly all thy dole, 

Oh ! eyes that tears have shed. 

Oh ! hearts that long have bled, 

Be thou now comforted. 

Smile thou at fear, 

When he says in me is peace, 

In me is joy’s increase, 

Though in the world is care. 

Though tribulation’s there. 

Remember then, my heart. 

One with him thou art, 

By faith, and start 
Not at pain or fear. 

Be thou of .cheer. 

This clergyman was on his road to a little 
church that stands by a river side, not many miles 
from where I am writing. No elegant cemetery 
beside it makes us think of returning to dust beside 
the great men and wcfmen of the past, yet there 
are two very old grave stones near it, that mark 
the resting-place of no one_in the neighborhood 
seems to know who. * * ^ ^ 

You see I am telling this story in novel style. You 
perceive I am not rambling from my point, or go- 
ing, in the telling of it, round anybody’s stable, or 
barn, I should say. Much less Robin Hood’s barn. 
He is dead: rest his soul under the greenwood tree. 

% % Hi % ^ 

A huge cherry tree spreads its growth over these 


38 LADY nUGELEBERRY ENLARGES 


grave stones spoken of above, but no flowering 
shrubs or rose bushes soften, in the long summer 
sunshine, the grim aspect of the grim figurative 
carving on the brown markers of an unknown 
grave or graves. It was a hot summer when this 
D.D. reached this church. He dismounted his 
horse, tied him to a post, and stood meditating, 
near these stones just referred to, on the probable 
chance of his bones being laid beneath a stone 
with an undecipherable mark. He meditated and 
thought, a lump into his throat, and would have 
stopped meditating more on such solemn things, 
and have gone into the church, as his business 
there was to marry a couple, but being a little 
early he sat upon one of these stones, once more 
referred to, and kept on meditating on the solemnity 
and certainty of death, until he grew exhausted 
and fell asleep. * * * * 

I have tried the melancholy vein of thought. It 
makes my eyes ache and my cheeks burn. What 
an inducement to continue it, but ah ! an inward 
voice speaks sometimes to us, and we must. The 
voice says, though such meditation wastes the out- 
ward man, it invigorates and purifies the inward. 
The outward man sooner or later will be laid under 
a stone, marked or unmarked, with plain or fancy 
figures, or under the deep blue sea, and then, with- 
out you renew the inward man by occasional 


ON HER HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


39 


solemn meditation, there will be no smiling spirit 
of your individuality in Paradise. While the good 
D.D. slept, he fell off the grave stone on which he 
was sitting, and, not waking, he slept two hours on 
the grass. When he awoke he saw the ushers 
standing on the church steps, looking in every 
direction to see if he was coming. He arose, went 
by a rear door through the robing room into the 
chancel, and, to the astonishment of all, com- 
menced reading the Episcopal burial service. 

4s % * % 

He had been trying the melancholy line of think- 
ing too long. 

Let me tell another story to my readers here — a 
lively story, that I may not get into the melan- 
choly way of writing, as that D.D. did of think- 
ing. 

Here it is, the lively story, I mean. A short 
distance south, or perhaps, more correctly south- 
east, of the church I have incidentally mentioned, 
stands a small, white house, the abode of a young 
bachelor of prepossessing appearance. This young 
bachelor was left alone in this house, to keep 
bachelor’s hall, as an experiment, one summer. 
N'ow, there were two young ladies who lived 
opposite this young bachelor’s house, who formed 
each one of them, a separate and distinct resolu- 
tion that she would make him engage liimself to 


40 LADT HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


marry her before the summer was over, during 
which he was to keep bachelor’s hall. Think of 
it, my dear public — two pretty sisters, each, un- 
known to the other, cherishing a determined reso- 
lution to make the same young man propose to her 
(keep in mind, here, that “ her ” means more than 
one — it stands for “them”). Only think how art- 
ful women can be, though perhaps they have not 
the wills of men — they may not be possessed of the 
philosophical or poetical will of the Schopenhauer 
or Hartmann variety, that can control everything 
earthly, and bend it to subserve the end of the art 
they may desire to practice. They may not be 
possessed of the desire that all great men artists 
seem to have — the desire to see all their earthly 
love swallowed up in their art ideal^ in which ideal 
they seem to see all the world centered. No, 
women see all they desire, when they love, cen- 
tered in one life, and they bring all their art, all 
their power to bear on their loved one, in order 
that they may make him their own ; not selfishly, 
perhaps, but exclusively. Imagine, then, the case 
of this young bachelor, when two separate and 
distinct women’s wills were brought to bear to 
win one man. Now, this young man was not a 
poet, and so he was susceptible to the influence of 
love, as well as to the impressions of beauty. A 
male poet is, according to most philosophers, pecu- 


ON HER HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


41 


liarly susceptible to the impressions of beauty in 
general, but not at all susceptible, according to 
the great philosopher Plato, to the charms of any 
beauty in particular. "Plato, in the third book of 
Diogenes, Laertius (I quote from the poet Moore’s 
translation), makes poets to disavow all the in- 
fluence of love. Plato says : 

“ ‘ Yield to my gentle power, Parnassian maids,’ 

Thus to the Muses spoke the queen of charms, 

‘ Or love shall flutter in your classic shades. 

And make your grove the camp of Paphian arms.’ 
‘ No,’ said the virgins of the tuneful bower, 

‘ We scorn thine own and all thy urchin’s art; 

Though Mars has trembled at the virgin’s power, 

His shaft is pointless o’er a Muse’s heart.’ ” 

^ ^ ^ 

Ah ! male poets (I say male because nearly 
every lovely woman is a poet) love too much and 
free to wed — they love everything beautiful. One 
day one beautiful girl charms them, and the next 
day, another, of a different style of loveliness, 
charms them more. But, alas ! the beautiful girls 
that fall in love with the poets, being faithful unto 
death, are often consumed, it is said, alive in 
Love’s fire. Old or young, male i^oets seem to 
have the power of charming young girls to love 
them, and consciously, or unconsciously, they use 
this power pretty freely, I think, from what 
I read. Old gray-haired Anacreon had thou- 


42 LADT HUGELEBERRY ENLARGES 


sands of young girls in love with him, I believe. 
Oh ! Anacreon, old Bard of Pleasure, if you were 
only alive I would be one of your lovers, no doubt. 

The smiling, aged bard, one night 
I, in a dream, did see ; 

His humid eyes were wondrous bright, 

His locks of gray flowed free ; 

And, when he smiled on me, 

I thought my heart, in its delight, 

Would from my bosom flee. 

I felt his breath upon my brow — 

Its fragrance lingers on there now ; 

His white hair swept my cheek ; 

I felt a joy I cannot speak. 

' And, though his age was twice my age. 

The warm kiss of that poet sage 
Was bliss that’s Love’s best bliss. 

Young heart of mine, that then did start 
With joy when pressed to his old heart ; 

Young heart, that beat, with soft desire. 

To list forever to his lyre — 

To look forever in his eyes ; 

Young heart of mine, with sweet surprise. 

To see them change their hues like fire. 

Let poets write what they will about being en- 
snared by love, they are only ensnared by beauty, 
and seldom devoted to one style of beautiful 
maiden, either. Black eyes charm them some- 
times, blue sometimes, gray sometimes. But few 
poets can be constant to one, it is said, even if 
they try hard, and they seldom try, it seems 


ON HER HUSBANHS FOLLIES. 


43 


to me. But I must not forget about the young 
bachelor. 

Not being a poet, he had a heart that could love 
women devotedly. 

After this young bachelor had tried the ex- 
periment of keeping bachelor’s hall about three 
weeks, the oldest of the sisters who had deter- 
mined to win him for her husband — let us call her 
Miss Dickson — knocked at his front door. The 
young bachelor opened it, and invited her in. 
The young bachelor had made up his mind, when 
he commenced keeping bachelor’s hall, that he 
would not admit a woman in the house during the 
experiment ; but this evening he must have con- 
cluded that melancholy thoughts are bred in the 
breast by exclusion from female society, and that 
it is only well to cherish melancholy thoughts 
occasionally for the soul’s sake. Not that the 
young bachelor thought that the soul could be 
neglected with impunity on this occasion, for he 
was a believer in the verses that affirm : 

The more our Lord is to us — for 
We’re one with Him we do adore, 

By so much we ourselves are more. 

And in the verses that tell us to : 

Work to make more lovely 
To our souls, 


44 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


Jesus, who their beauty gives them 
And controls. 

% ^ ^ ^ * 

We are limited 07 il^ hy what we love, and we 
are able to love what we will to love, if we believe 
in Jesus. In other words, we have the power of 
choice in this matter of love, for faith is a power 
of love, most likely philosophized this young 
bachelor, — according to Max Muller. What does 
Max say in this connection ? I must ask Obadiah 
Thompkins. 

But a truce to speaking about Max Muller. 
Let us speak about the young bachelor. 

Well, then, the 'young bachelor was faithful 
to the creed of love, and he was highly suscepti- 
ble to the charms of Miss Dickson, for whom he 
opened the door as told before (7'hyme). Let us 
call the jmung bachelor, for convenience sake, Mr. 
Ville Ross, The young lady. Miss Dickson, was 
received courteously by Mr. Ville Ross, and was no 
sooner seated on one of his chairs in one of his 
rooms, than she said : “ How lonesome you must 

be here, Mr. Ville Ross, without a woman in the 
house ! Mr. Ville Ross, do you not have an ideal 
woman always before your mind? Do you not, 
when you attempt to be happy as a bachelor — to 
keep, as you express it, ‘ Bachelor's hall T ” Mr. 
Ville Ross answered her something in this loay 


ON HER HUSBANNS POLLIES. 


45 


(by the way, he was quite a philosopher) : “I do 
not think my ideal is a woman. Of course, I have 
an ideal before my mind, but it is a great man. I 
am not perhaps great enough to have the great 
ideal, I once heard a Christian poet say it was 
his fortune to have. He said that Christ, as he 
could conceive of Him after reading the Bible 
with prayer, and meditating on its sublimest pas- 
sages and most elevating descriptions and revela- 
tions of the attributes of JehovaJ], was his ideal. 
His ideal, this poet I refer to went on to say, 
was what he loved in Jesus — was what Christ was 
to him. This poet philosophized something in 
this way (he was pessimistic in many of his 
notions) : he said his idea was that if we cherish an 
earthly ideal, we cannot rise higher than it, and so, 
as all things earthly are below the spirit, and un- 
satisfactory to its longings, we never can know 
what it is to be without a gnawing pain at the 
heart. What Schopenhauer and Hartmann call 
the tricks of the unconscious one, he called the 
tricks of our earthly ideal. The world ideal, he 
said, if cherished, would pain us each day, for 
each day’s time would rob it of some of its beau- 
ties. If we cherished a child, or a wife, or a great 
man, for instance, as our ideal, as the child grows 
it becomes less and less beautiful, as a child, of 
course ; and naturally, as the wife grows old, she 


46 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


loses more and more of what we cherish her for, 
as an ideal ; as the great man’s powers decay, he 
also becomes less and less satisfactory as an ideal. 
Of course, this is only a one-sided illustration, buP 
it will make his point plain to you, Miss Dickson. 
By reading the Scriptures with prayer, and with 
meditation on the highest, holiest, most beautiful 
things Christ increases in loveliness to us, it 
seemed to him, though being unchangeable, not in 
himself, or to himself, perhaps. Christ becomes 
more to you every day, and you become greater 
the more he becomes to you, of course. Your 
happiness increases as your ideal becomes better 
and better understood and appreciated. And with 
Christ as an ideal, you never know the pains of 
unrequited love, the pains of desertion, the pains 
of desire unsatisfied, of hope deferred that maketh 
the heart sick.” 

Here Miss Dickson said, for the purpose of sav- 
ing herself from appearing to have a low ideal, 
and with her accustomed art: “Mr. Yille Ross, 
don’t speak about high ideals as though I inferred 
you only had an earthly ideal. For my part, I have 
an earthly and a heavenly one.” This was said at 
random, and not to the point, but it served to 
silence the philosopher in ideals until the subject 
could be changed gracefully. Miss Dickson soon 
changed the subject by remarking : “ By the by. 


ON HER HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


47 


Mr. Yille Ross, can’t I get your tea for you this 
evening ?” The young woman knew she had favor- 
ably impressed Mr. Ville Ross, and she feared if she 
argued with him on ideals, he would find out she 
was weak as a philosopher, and this she thought 
would tend to dissipate the good impression she 
had made by her graceful and vivacious manner 
and her beauty, so she thought it a good plan to 
assist him in getting tea. That would be a good 
move in the direction of bis heart, she thought, and 
would at the same time tend to stop the philosoph- 
ical discussion. While Mr. Ville Ross was consid- 
ering whether to let her help him get his supper or 
not. Miss Dickson was pulling out a table, and 
asking him where he kept his table-cloth and fur- 
niture, such as crockery, knives and forks, &c., 
<fcc., &c. Mr. Ville Ross thought Miss Dickson 
looked splendid as she was setting the tea-table. 
He sat dumbfounded at her grace, beauty, her help- 
fulness and tact. “ Oh ! Mr. Ville Ross,” said she, 
“ I would often have run over to help you, if I only 
had known you was the nice young man I find 
you are. At this speech of Miss D.’s, Mr. Ville 
Ross was not altogether pleased. It set him to 
thinking that he would be the talk of the town for 
admitting Miss Dickson into his house when he 
was alone there. Mr. Ville Ross was beginning to 
like Miss Dickson too well for hi.s own happiness 


48 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


as a bachelor, when a rap at the door was heard, 
and on its being responded to, in walked Miss 
Dickson’s sister Mary. Mr. Ville Ross no sooner 
opened the door for her than she exclaimed, “Tell 
me ! tell me, quick ! is my sister Annie here ? She 
told us home she was going to the grocer’s, and 
some one I just met said she saw her come in 
here about an hour ago.” “ Come in,” said Mr. Ville 
Ross, “ and see for yourself.” “ My gracious, An- 
nie ! you here ?” said Mary Dickson, as soon as she 
entered the room where her sister was engaged in 
getting tea for Mr. Ville Ross. “ Yes,” said Miss 
Dickson in reply, “ and I am contented to remain 
here awhile.” “ So am I, too,” said Miss Mary Dick- 
son, as she subsided into a chair, and commenced 
to converse in a lively and vivacious manner with 
Mr. Ville Ross. “ Oh ! Mr. Ville Ross, you don’t 
know what a woman-hater I thought you to be,” she 
remarked, among many other lively remarks. “ I 
have often said to my sister Annie here, I think 
Mr. Ville Ross over the way hates the sight of a 
woman. I think l^e would not woo or marry 
Cleopatra, were she living and enamored of him. 
He seems to have no heart in his bosom. I have 
heard he is a philosopher ; and I know he is a 
prepossessing gentleman, Annie, I said ; but Annie, 
I said, between you and I, and I don’t remember 
who now or what, I think he is a woman-hater. 


ON UER HUSBAND^S FOLLIES. 


49 


The idea, Annie, I said, of his living in a house 
without a woman ; but perhaps he has been disap- 
pointed in love, — who knows ? Have you noticed, 
Annie, that he seldom smiles ? * * ^ 

These two young ladies were too much for Mr. 
Ville Ross. He did not sleep much the night of 
their first visit, and when he fell in a doze it was 
near morning, and he had a dream that seemed to 
him to come from the realms of bliss, about two 
Miss Dicksons. He dreamt he married one, but 
when he awoke he could not, for the life of him, 
remember which he dreamt became his bride. 
Here it is apropos to quote this poem, I think. 

BRIGHT DREAMS. 

Out of the deeps of the weird blue sky, 

Down out of the upper mystery, 

Rest and love without a history. 

Come with some loved voice and eye ; 

Come to speak of the by and bye. 

Out of the mystery of the solemn nigh; 

Weaving illusion for all mankind. 

That is airy and fleet as th’ passing wind 
That soft and zephyrously blows 
Out of the mystery of the far away. 

Where joy’s fountain ceaseless flows, 

Where beauty never like here knows 
Death’s icy touch or foul decay — 

Dreams that are gloriously bright. 

Come down to our earth’s realms of night, 

Down out of the realms of day. 

}f! * ♦ Hs sJ: * 


4 . 


60 LADT HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


Ah ! the happiness of Mr. Yille Ross’ bachelor- 
hood was gone, he found, to his sorrow, when he 
awoke ; the joy that laughed loud in his breast was 
pierced with Love’s pain-giving barb ; but he did 
not know whether it was Miss Dickson the eldei’, 
or Miss Dickson the younger, that he loved. Oh ! 
what a condition to be in. Just think of it. Well, 
we are all in the same boat once during our lives, 
I believe. 

We don’t know what we love best. I was once 
uncertain whether I loved the follies that I satirize 
or the morality I preach, best. One evening, when 
I was trying to make up my mind whether or not 
I was a hypocrite in satirizing fashionable follies 
or not, lord Huckleberry came to me and said, 
“ You have bothered your brain with preaching 
morality so much lately, that you need a little 
recreation and rest. I propose that we make a 
visit to America, and call on the friends of our 
courting days there.” This cleared my mind, and 
I have not been divided in my love since. I love 
my husband, but I hate his follies. 

Not long after my husband proposed that we 
visit America, we were booked on the register 

of the W House, New York city. * * ^ 

My husband left me alone one evening in our 
private parlor, there, while he sauntered out to 
see the great metropolis by gaslight. I saw noth- 


ON HER HU8BANH8 F0LLIE8. 


51 


ing of my lord until breakfast-time next morning, 
when he sauntered into our breakfast-room look- 
ing as though he had been awake all night. I 
came in early to breakfast that morning. It was 
nearly daylight before I retired the night before, 
being anxious concerning the whereabouts of my 
husband, and not knowing but that he might be 
brought in to me dead at any moment. 

I had no sooner taken a seat at the breakfast- 
table than my lord walked into the room, and, 
seating himself next me, with the exclamation, 
‘‘ You sit there. Flora,” looking so innocent, “ I 
must tell you my last night’s troubles,” he com- 
menced with : “ I had sorne hard knocks under 

the glamour of the lamps of New York city, last 
night, in relation of them. Flora, I did evil, I am 
afraid. Something seems to tell me I have made 
a fool of myself ; but let me tell you what I have 
done, and your judgment on the matter will be ac- 
cepted by me as final. I wish I was worthy of you. 
Flora — indeed, I do. You was no better than I am 
when I married you, but since you have perused 
again and again the ‘ Tender Recollections ’ of our 
reformed friend, Irene Macgillicuddy, you are a 
little too good for me. Flora.” (This, coming 
from my husband ! Oh ! the good Irene’s Tender 
Recollections may yet, through my efforts, reform 
my dear husband.) After the prelude about my 


52 LADY HUGKLEBEBRY ENLARGES 


goodness (my husband evidently was not clear- 
headed, and seemed to be under the influence of 
something he had imbibed the night before), in a 
random, maudlin, sentimental tone of voice, com- 
menced the relation of a series of his misadven- 
tures. * * * * 

Never shall I forget the feelings with which I 
received his relation of his scrapes under the 
glamour of the gaslight. 

When a husband talks to his wife as my courtly 
husband, talked to me that morning, and tells her 
that he has done what Lord Huckleberry told me, 

at our breakfast-table at the W House, he 

had done, it is time for the wife to drop on her 
knees and pray for his soul ; and before night I 
prayed for Lord Huckleberry’s reform, long and 
earnestly. I felt melancholy enough all that da3^ 
But I do not propose to make up these papers 
after the analytical style of romance that takes up 
time and space with an analysis of every symptom 
or the hero or heroine. No, I do not propose to tell 
the public anything much about my feelings melan- 
choly or joyous. The public is often as capable of 
analyzing the feelings of a novelist’s characters 
from a hint, or from the thread of the narrative, or 
the denouements given, as the novelist herself. I 
intend these papers to be original in every particu- 
lar, especially in the particular of style, and, though 


ON HER HUSBAND^S FOLLIES. 


53 


I do not fully indorse Richard Grant White’s views 
about the doing away with the grammar, I may be 
led by originality, or something else, even to the 
extent of disregarding etymology, syntax and 
prosody. However, I will enlarge on my hus- 
band’s follies in as pleasant a manner as I can, for 
he was not any more of a man of the world than 
the generality of young noblemen appear to mo to 
be. My husband, with all his follies, has a' noble 
heart ; but it was hidden, a long time, way down 
below his follies. The corruptions of society — 
among which he was brought up — reacted on my 
husband. Courtly society is very corrupt, I am 
sorry to say, in the vicinity of my courtly home. 
* * * Far from being a bad-hearted 

man, my husband, if he had been brought up to be 
a clergyman, I believe he would have been more 
like the Master than any I know of in London or 
Hew York, for he was one of the few men that 
have no selfishness of moment in their composi- 
tion. He was charitable to a fault — and charity 
covers the multitude of sins. This comparison 
between clergymen of my acquaintance and my 
husband is, of, course, colored by the lover’s 
glasses I wear. hc * * jj^y 

band, being such a man in my opinion as I think 
him to be, let me tell his follies in a comic strain, 
as I believe they were more due to what seems to 


54 LADT HUGKLEBEBRY ENLARGES 


me his foolish, if not comic, idea of what manhood 
should consist of, than to anything else, except, 
perhaps, his anacreontic love of pleasure. * * 

Training — training, society — society, made his ana- 
creontic nature manifest itself as folly, alas ! too 
often. * * He Hc 

By the by, what a comic idea of what the end 
of life is the man of the world must have. All 
these passions, all these pleasures, all these long- 
ings, end in comedy for him in thought. Would 
they would end never tragic in reality. 

Walking on Broadway, after imbibing freely 

at the St. N , my husband, it seems, from his 

narration of his scrapes, met a dashing young 
man. 

“ I say, my friend,” said he, “ haven’t I met 
you before?” “Maybe you have,” said my hus- 
band in reply. “ I have been here before, and I 
have traveled around with a party well acquainted 
in New York, who introduced me to many nice 
people that I could be with such a short time I 
have forgotten them. Perhaps,” went on my hus- 
band in the off-hand, reiterative style of the intox- 
icated, “you met me when I was in New York 
before. I saw the sights in company with the 
phlegmatic Lord Chowder, — who, by the way, is a 
sluggish piece of protoplasm, Irene says, — and in 
company with the jolly, lively soup stick that 


ON HER HUSBANNS FOLLIES. 


55 


moves wkh alacrity. I mean Charlie Didntoffer. 
Yes, and further speaking after the manner of 
men, I saw the sights with some of the great ladies 
of this great city of yours, my friend — with Irene 
Macgillicuddy, now Mrs. Thompkins of the Great 
London, and with Flora Temple, now Lady H. 
I gave you my card, didn’t I ? My name’s Huckle- 
berry ; I am stopping at the W House with 

my wife. My wife is one of the best of women. 
She used to be the dashing Flora Temple. I 
believe I told you before.” 

Perhaps my husband did not talk exactly as I 
have set it down above to this man, but I drew out 
of him, as the expression goes, — which I believe is 
an Americanism, — that he talked very much in the 
above style to this strange man that he chanced 
to meet, the memorable night under discussion. I 
say strange man — undoubtedly, he had never met 
the man before. 

Why ! he even invited the man to call and see 
me. He never called. If he had, I think I would 
have prayed for him heartily. I did anyhow pray 
for him. h: * * * 

When my husband gave him his card, it seems 
the man, who it seems w^as somewhat of a wag, ex- 
claimed : Oh ! you are an old Huckleberry, are 
you ? Why ! I know the whole family. My name’s 
Eatem. Let’s go in here and imbibe a friendly 


56 LADY HUCKLEBEBBY ENLABGES 


glass for old acquaintance sake.” Ah ! would you 
believe it, my dear public, and oh ! how it galls 
me to tell it. My husband went into a bar-room, 
and imbibed with this man, until they both be- 
came so intoxicated that they were arrested fore 
being drunk and disorderly. Just think of it, my 
dear readers ! how it galls me to relate this fact. 
Think of my husband, the man I won with the aid 
of Irene Macgillicuddy, the courtly and intelli- 
gent, polished Lord Huckleberry, that Irene knew 
she had no show to win, with all her arts, with all 
her intelligence, with all her lively, dashing youth- 
ful sparkle. Though Irene was royal in her bear- 
ing, had all the graces of youth, beauty, wealth 
and culture, she knew herself, and said it herself, 
that she had no show to win Lord Huckleberry for a 
husband. Just think, my dear public, that for your 
benefit, that you will be warned never to allow your- 
self to be crushed or bullied by the demon Alcohol, 
I write down and make your warning light the 
fact that my husband was arrested for being drunk 
and disorderly. Do not begin to complain that 
the warning is thrown away on you, and that I 
should keep such things to myself, that they will 
do you no good, and may do Lord H. and myself 
much harm. You see I think that you will find 
value in my warning. ^ ^ ^ 

Of course my husband showed the policeman that 


ON HER HUSBANNS FOLLIES. 


57 


arrested him, his card, and something, I think, that 
had a picture of one of the reigning sovereigns on 
it. Of course the policeman did not care to see 
the something with the sovereign on it so much as 
he did the card. But the card, he said, though very- 
pretty, was a reminder of huckleberry jam and the 
good things of this life, generally, that one required 
the aid of money to become possessed of, and the 
policeman further remarked that he was very fond 
of the good things, like huckleberry jam and wine, 
but he was poor but honest, and k would not do to 
try bribe him. Oh ! no ! he -would take the gold 
for a present, but you know, bribe. Oh, not for 
Joseph, no, not for Jo. Joseph is not that kind of 
a plum, or berry either, for that matter. 

The policeman took the gold as far as his pocket, 
and got a carriage, and ordered the driver to take 
Lord Huckleberry to the W. House forthwith. 

^ * 

I thought once New York city was a less cor- 
rupt city than London — more moral, but alas ! I 
don’t think so now. New York, New York on 
the whole, perhaps, is the paradise of the lover of 
pleasure more than the lover of his God. As I 
laid down my knife and fork the morning after 
my husband’s arrest, I thought New York city, 
with its few years of existence compared with 


58 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 

London, has managed to learn all the vices that 
London knows, and how to practise them with all 
the fascination that Babylon of old used. Yes, 
even has New York learned to be as scientific as 
the unconscious one of Hartmann is playing 
against her citizens’ and visitors’ real interests. 
Yes, I thought as I balanced my knife and fork on 
the edge of the saucer of blue and white china I 
had that morning before me, I am as blue as the 
saucer before me, and as disgusted with the 
pranks of my huckleberry love, as the wise-look- 
ing old man on that piece of delf seems to be 
disgusted at the childish preference of Venus, who 
seems to be waving over her boy love a monogram 
fan. 

Thou wlio china saucers makes, 

Full of lovely hues and forms, 

Thou who with love’s beauty warms 
The china that the servant breaks. 

_ Thou who formest shapes on delf, 

Why make Venus show herself 
Only near her boyish love, 

. Cooing for him like a dove ? 

Ne’er beside some wise old swain, 

Never near the sage old men. 

Has never reason won her heart. 

That she from old men far apart 
Is kept on china saucers fine. 

Why not near wise age recline ? 

A child alone, can she adore. 

Is love a child forevermore ? 


ON HER HUSBANH8 FOLLIES. 


59 


Oil ! how blue I felt the day my husband re- 
lated about his arrest. My heart would jump up 
into my coffee cup, I thought, before that day was 
over, and that I would be a served up Huckleberry 
on some of the breakfast-table crockery. * * 

Troubles come to lords and ladies ; I did not 
think they did, in reality, only in a romantic and 
unreal way, you know, when Irene and I were 
working and planning to get a lord or two on the 
matrimonial hook with which we were fishing. 
Often and often, since those guileless, happy times, 
— if they were guileless, and I fear they were more 
joyous than guileless — I have thought Irene was 
right in marrying an untitled man, and not a man 
of the upper ten, 'but a man of the upper unit or 
lower thousand, I don’t know which. * * * 

Obadiah, I wish you all good luck, a^nd long life. 
Often and often do I wet my pillow with tears. 
Though my husband is not really bad, he is not 
like yours, Irene Thompkins. * * * 

I have been mortified many, many times since we 
were young, and laughing leaders of the fashion, 
Irene. But life is not all fair and bright for you 
either, I know, dear Irene, for it never is for any 
one, I have learned to think, and what is it, after 
all, that makes us happy, but bearing with the ills 
and darkness of life for the Master’s sake? Work 
to raise the fallen, to comfort the afflicted, and to 


CO LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


lift the poor out of the mire, there could not be, if 
life was all bright and fair, and in such working 
we can only know real happiness continually. 
The old song we used to sing together, said too 
truly, in some such refrain, there is toil and care, 
in married life especially. 

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 

^ “ What are you thinking of, dearest Flora ?” 

said my husband a few moments ago, and put his 
arms around me and kissed me. “I was think- 
ing,” said I in reply, that you are not as large or 
desirable a Huckleberry as I took you to be when 
I planned to win your heart with Irene Macgilli- 
cuddy. Like Eve, I wanted the fruit because it 
seemed to be sweeter and rarer than any fruit my 
position in the garden of the world would allow 
me to touch freely.” I was plain and very off- 
hand with him, you see — but I didn’t mean it to 
be taken too literally, neither did I mean it in its 
fullest sense in my heart, for I am not really sorry 
I married Lord Huckleberry. ‘‘We all shrink,” said 
my husband, with a bite in his tone of voice, “ I 
believe, after the honeymoon — the honeymoon 
bloats us and swells us out. There is more in the 
power of the moon than is dreamt of in your phil- 
osophy, Flora, and besides the honeymoon is the 
moon that is twice as powerful in producing effects 
on fruit, as any ordinary moon. All ! and men 


ON HER HUSBANH8 FOLLIES. 


61 


and women love the fruit, too, when it is per- 
fected.” 

“ The power of the honeymoon is not unknown 
to my philosophy. Lord Huckleberry,” I replied, 
rather piqued at him. 

“ You don’t say so, my little blueberry,” said he, 
and gave me such a squeeze that I think he squeezed 
out all the anger at him I had in me. I was really 
angry at him, you see, at the time, but I gave him 
a kiss, and said I was glad I had not shrunk in his 
estimation too much for him to love me still and 
desire me as a sweet morsel. 

I said to him, immediately an opportunity 
offered, that I hoped that I was as wise and as 
good in his estimation as I was sweet. I said I 
flattered myself that Irene’s Tender Recollections 
had made a wise Christian woman of me, a hater 
of shoddy aristocracy, and all fraud and conniving, 
and pretending men and women. I told Lord Huck- 
leberry, further, that I intended to do all in my 
power to make him as wise a Christian man as he 
was capable of becoming. “ Lord Huckleberry,” I 
said to him (prompted to be thus bold with him by 
the spirit within me), “though you have many 
vices, you are not an accomplished rascal, like Mr. 

Eatem, who took you in near the St. H Hotel, 

and bit a good p^ce out of your self-respect ; it is 
a wonder he did^not eat you all up, body and soul. 


63 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


And even if you was an accomplished rascal, I am 
your wife, and I love you with a woman’s undying 
love that can hold unto the object of her affection, 
even after sin has made a demon of it. I have for 
you. Lord Huckleberry, the love that seeks to do 
you good.” 

“ I hope you may help me to be more worthy 
of you, Flora,” said my husband, in a repentant 
tone. 

“ That time. Lord Huckleberry, will be a long 
'time coming,” said I, “ unless you learn to get 
along with less wine, and unless you learn to love 
the pleasure that comes from helping others more 
than the selfish pleasure you seem to love so 
much ” ^ ^ ^ ^ 

He laughed, patted me on the cheeks, and said, 
“ Flora, I will learn from you to be better and 
wiser soon, I know, because no one can be in your 
company without learning goodness and wisdom. 
Irene’s Recollections have given you, it seems to 
me, the wisdom of the serpent and the harmless- 
ness of the dove.” 

“Whatever knowledge of my own weakness 
and sinfulness I have attained, and whatever desire 
to be a redeemer of my mis-spent time I have, I 
thank God for,” I said, in a rational style. “ Irene’s 
Recollections showed that both in England and 
America society is more or less shoddy, and needs 


ON HER HU8BANH8 F0LLIE8. 


63 


more or less purifying and reforming generally. 
I desire to see men and women a little raised in 
morals — raised above the desire to eat chowder 
from a golden dish, or Huckleberries from a gold- 
en spoon.” He * He « Why,” I asked my 
husband, do men and women, who follow fashion, 
show to every philosopher who desires to love 
them, that they are unworthy of his respect, and 
are worth little more than the pretty insects that 
flutter in the sunbeams ? I have read, somewhere, 
that it is in the blood, and that it is folly to ignore 
the natural desires, that we must accept the appe- 
tites and passions as the ultimate motor in human 
affairs. Perhaps we must. I think in my philoso- 
phy I do ; but why not give our appetites a wise, 
and not a foolish direction ? Merely because we 
have an animal-nature, you say. But, Lord Huck- 
leberry, you have an intellectual nature, at least I 
thought so once. Utilize that for my sake, if not 
for your own! Why make* title, or money, or 
fashion, a God ?” * * * * 

The most powerful motive is love, and why should 
it not crush out its enemies ? A man has no more 
powerful urger on to action than love. Human 
nature, it is true, ha*s acquired instincts and inher- 
ited instincts that try to crush out love. For 
instance, human nature has acquired cruelty, and 
men are moved to put Mr. Bergh and love and 


64 LADY HUGKLEBERMY ENLARGES 


benevolence to great straits. It seems that from 
Adam we have inherited passion that leads us, in 
many cases, to sacrifice our best nature to the 
interests of our lower ; but from Adam I think we 
never inherited the taste for docking horses ; we 
have inherited that from Cain, that is, we have 
acquired it, and it must be crushed, out, and unlike 
the other passions we have, it cannot be reformed. 
We must thank Bergh for trying to crush it out of 
us. I am conscious that men have acquired cruelty 
and so I am taking this occasion to indict it, 
although I have to go out of my course a little to 
do so. * * Why not indict a society that 

sacrifices wisdom to folly, and morality to fashion ? 
I fear that there can be little done to improve society 
unless I can shame such men of influence — as my 
husband, for instance — to rise above fashion. But 
let me drop my stilts. Let me get into the coinic v 
again. I have a comic episode on hand. Here it 
is, if it can be called an episode with propriety. 

* ❖ * Hs 

My husband said to me, “ Let us take a trip out 
west while we are in America.” One day we 
started out west, and I saw there much of interest 
after I arrived in the land of the setting sun. 

* ^ ^ ^ 

Charles Lakey was a native of a far western 

town, that consisted of a church, blacksmith’s 


ON HER HU8BANH8 F0LLIE8. 


65 


shop, and a country store, a few huts, and a hotel 
that was nearly all bar-room. Charles Lakey 
visited the hotel frequently (I boarded there and I 
know), at first I thought merely because it had so 
much bar-room ; but the landlord had a daughter 
that was esteemed, I learned full soon, by Lakey, 
as anything but homely, though she was, I 
thought, anything but pretty, and her prospects of 
bringing Lakey any money were only fair to mid- 
dling. * * * Qjjg night I happened 

to be m the parlor of this hotel referred to, 
talking to this young lady just mentioned, when 
who should come in but Lakey, making a low bow 
to us both as he entered the door, smiling all over 
his countenance. The first words spoken after 
Lakey entered were spoken by me to the landlord’s 
daughter, whose name was Susan. “ Susey, dear,” 
I said, “I will retire and leave you and Mr. Lakey 
alone. I am not ignorant of the old adage about 
lovers considering a third party a nuisance when 
they are together.” 

‘‘ Don’t prance out on my account, Mrs. Huckle- 
berry. I guess your company is better than your 
room. Your purty figger and livening talk will 
gin me courage to set and look at the landlord’s 
purty Susey without winking,” said Lakey. 

‘‘ Not any go out, if I knows it, Mrs. Huckle- 
berry, and I guess I does,” broke in Susey. 

5 


66 LADY HUCELEBEBBT ENLABGEB 


I remained in the room, and, of course, was 
highly amused that evening, and learned much 
about the way western lovers court their girls, and 
how western girls treat their lovers, for I think 
Lakey and Susey, from observations I then and 
subsequently made, fair specimens of the far west- 
ern lovers. Hc * * * ❖ 

When I recall what I witnessed that evening 
in that parlor of that little far western hotel, I 
laugh inwardly, and often heartily. “How do you 
like me, ladies, out of my old rusty s,” said Lakey, 
in an off-hand manner. He referred to his having 
on a new suit of clothes, I learned from Susey after- 
wards. “ Got new clothes on, hey ?” said Susan, 
giggling all over her blushing face, as she turned 
her eyes on me, to see if there were any signs of 
admiration of Lakey on ray physiognomy. I use 
this word fo4- face now almost altogether, because 
I have heard Mr. Obadiah Thompkins use it so 
much. I tried to look admiringly at Lakey’s new 
suit of clothes, but for the life of me I could not 
help shaking with laughter. Susey was giggling, 
and I soon was roaring with laughter in Mr. 
Lakey’s face, but luckily both Lakey and Susan 
seemed to think that laughter expressed admira- 
tion. They were not discriminative enough to see 
the fact that they were poppy-shows to me. 
What I am told the Jews of New York city say 


ON HER HUSBAND^S FOLLIES, 


67 


about clothes that are too large for the wearer, 
“ it fits you too much,” I might have said about 
Lakey’s new suit. It was about three inches too 
long as regards what Chowder sarcastically called 
the trousers, and there was about twice too much 
cloth in the coat, whose tails hung down behind 
nearly to the heels of a pair of number fourteen 
boots. “ It may not be as stylish as the new suit 
I bought last fori, Mrs. Huckleberry,” remarked 
Lakey. 

Just then my husband came into the parlor to 
find me, as he had been told by the landlord I was 
there. My husband looked first at Lakey, then at 
me, then at Susan, and at last he exclaimed, “We 
must wet that suit, Lakey !” It seems my husband 
had been playing a game of cards with Lakey, and 
the stakes were a new suit, and Lakey won. One 
of my husband’s follies — gambling — accounts for 
the bringing in of this episode. “ Why, Lakey !” 
remarked my husband, after a few moments of 
looking at him in a silent wonder, “That’s the best 
fitting suit of clothes I have ever seen on mortal 
man. Where did you find the tailor’s shop to pur- 
chase such a good fit ?” 

Lakey before long seemed to take it for 
granted that we all admired him and his new suit 
of clothes, and fired away for an hour, with the 
most amusing of vulgar expressions, interrupted 


68 LADY HUGKLEBERBY ENLARGES 


only occasionally by Susan, my husband, and my- 
self. ‘‘ What’s the use of living,” he said, “ if you 
don’t dress well ? Ah ! Susey,” said he, drawing 
his chair very close to her, and putting his hand, cov- 
ered all up with coat sleeve, on her shoulder, ‘‘ my 
dear, it gives a fellow a flutterin’ at the heart, to 
be near you. I hope yer lovely lady friend, Mrs. 
Lady Huckleberry will, and her noble husban’ will 
think us made for each other.” I burst out laugh- 
ing at these remarks of Lakey’s, but my mirth at 
their expense elated the loving couple, instead of 
hurting their feelings. Lakey asked Susan if she 
did not enjoy courting, and before she could reply, 
he continued in these words, answ*ering his own 
question : “ Great cider-presses, I know you do,” 
and gave her a sounding smack on her now blood- 
red cheek. 

Though I have out-grown my courting days, 
tears came into my eyes as Lakey said, “ Perhaps 
I may not be able to marry you in a long time, if 
at all, Susan. I have been playing poker (bluff), 
and lost everything I’ve got in the world, — even 
this suit of clothes, for I staked them, and was al- 
lowed, howsomever, to wear them onct in yer pres- 
ence before givin’ ’em to the owner. Ole Sim, yer 
father’s waiter, has been beating me badly, and he 
says, says he, to yer father, Susey, ‘I love yer 
daughter,’ says he, ‘ lan’lord, and I have in perses- 


ON HER HU8BANH8 F0LLIE8. 


69 


sion, a little sura of raoney, and if yer will consent, 
I’ll marry her.’ The ole sly fox Sim has been for- 
tunate with the kierds for a long time. Says yer 
father, ‘ I think Susey loves Lakey, and Lakey is 
rich, for these parts.’ ‘Go and ask Lakey, he’s 
straight-forward,’ says Simeon, ‘ and he’ll tell yer 
he’s hasn’t got but a few reds left, — not even a 
decent suit of clothes. I’ve won every cent he’s 
persesser of, landlord.’ Oh ! Susey, I’m sick at 
heart. I thought I’d come in with a bold face, 
with the suit of clothes on, I won from yer noble 
friend. Lord Huckleberry, who says, ‘ he just plays 
for pastime, and for the excitement of the thing.’ 
Not like me yer know, Susey, for my fortune. I 
have kept my bold face on now, Susey, as long as 
I am able ter keep it, so I must tell my sorrer.” 

^ Hs ^ 4: 

I, Lady Huckleberry, sat contemplating Lakey 
and Susey, after this speech, with tearful eyes. 
Lakey and Susey both looked like figures in 
Hogarth’s last scene in the Rake’s Progress. Of 
course the debauched appearance was wanting. I 
thought of my courting Lord Huckleberry, — I 
mean Lord Huckleberry courting me, — and I asked 
Susey if she thought her father would make her 
give up Lakey and marry Simeon. She told me 
she feared he would, as he was very fond of 
money, — more fond of it, than of her. She burst' 


70 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


out crying, and my husband, — bless him for his 
kind heart, Heaven, if for nothing else, — olfered to 
back Lakey with money enough to win back his 
fortune from Simeon. I, not liking to encourage 
gambling, and desiring to make one the less gam- 
bler in the world, offered to give Lakey 300 
pounds sterling, — about 1400 dollars, — if he would 
promise me never to gamble again, and to use his 
influence to prevent others from gambling, by 
telling them the strait it put him in, and in every 
way he knew how, he was to try and prevent his 
friends and comrades from gambling, if I gave 
him the money. “ Great Simeon’s stool pigeons,” 
said Lakey, ‘‘ w’on’t I accept yer kind offer ? Why, 
I’ll work day and night to prevent gambling, and 
as for yer friend Lakey, why he’ll never more 
touch a kierd. Here’s my hand. What do yer 
say, Susan, to such a friend ?” — referring to me. 

^ 

Only to see the pleasure my offer gave Lakey 
and Susan, amply repaid me for the three hundred 
pounds, let alone the good I hoped it would do in 
preventing gambling. “ Honey and sugar ! Susey,” 
exclaimed Lakey, “ what a friend we’ve picked up” 
(referring to me). “Susan, suppose we had let her 
go out of the parlor when she wanted to to-night, 
hey ! when I arrived to court yer, hey !” 

Ah ! how could I look at these lovers devour- 


LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


71 


ing all the bliss there is in courting without being 
thankful that God put it into my heart to offer to 
set poor Lakey on his feet as an accepted caller 
at the house of his beloved’s mercenary parent. 
“Ah! Susey,” I said, “so your father will think 
Lakey a rich suitor for your hand, when I give him 
the fourteen hundred dollars, will he ?” “Yes,” she 
replied, “ we think one with a few hundred dollars 
hard cash rich here.” 

Rich and poor I thought, educated and un- 
educated, lovers are in the same paradise, if para- 
dise is a state, not a place, as some think. When 
two hearts beat as one, there is a light head above 
them both, and the air they breathe is highly oxy- 
genated, or oxygenized which is the right term, 
and paradise is entered. The rich and poor enter 
it, and only the rich seem to tire of its joys, but 
the poor are often driven out before the love-apples 
from the trees are eaten. Why do I put in some 
moralizing here ? — Ah ! because my own courtship 
is remembered. I wonder if I will ever grow so 
old I cannot call it to mind. * :}: ♦ 

Lakey bounced up to me, kissed me, and though 
I was astonished at his^ boldness, and for a mo- 
ment a little put out that he should kiss me 
(but in the presence of iny husband it was not so 
wrong after all), and, God bless him, I knew he 
meant to tell me by that kiss that I was more dear 


72 LADT HUGKLEBERRT ENLARGES 


to him than he could express to me in words. I 
returned his kiss, and Lord Huckleberry stepped 
over to Susey and kissed her, and w^e were all 
pleased, and greatly elated. 

“Go on courting,” said my husband to Susey, 
and Susan answered by shedding tears of joy and 
gratitude. 

Now, my dear public, I will leave Susan and 
Lakey to themselves as far as these pages are con- 
cerned, and proceed to regale you with a description 
of a dinner my husband and myself gave to a party 
of friends, at Delmonico’s, in New York city, on our 
return from the West. 

There are various places in New York city, 
where a good dinner may be had by paying a 
round price for it, and Delmonico’s is one of these 
various places. 

My dear public, imagine your friend, — myself, 
I mean, — sitting at one of Delmonico’s tables, 
with a mottled crowd of diners. It seems that of 
all places to get a mottled crowd together, the 
dinner-table is the best and handiest. Each man 
at a dinner-party seems to be two different kinds 
of animals, as well as himself, and, for that matter, 
each woman seems to be an animal or two besides 
herself. On the occasion to which I am referrino:, 
a fat, pink-faced female, sat opposite me, who 


ON HER HU8BANH8 F0LLIE8. 


73 


seemed for the nonce to be part fox, and part pig, 
as well as part woman. 

I suppose, to be fashionable I ought to give a 
minute description of each one of the guests that 
sat down with me on the occasion I am descant- 
ing on ; but I intend to keep out of the arts of 
composition as much as I can without being tedi- 
ous or uninteresting. Let me merely describe, in 
outline, two or three of the guests who sat down 
to dine with me at Delmonico’s at the time I am 
speaking about. 

There was young Didntoffer, with a smiling, 
ful 1-moon *f ace, but on the whole rather a good- 
looking man. To see him smile at the girl who sat 
near him, and hear him talk fashionable nonsense, 
put me in mind of my courting days. There was 
Baron Dickshatband, a new-made friend of my hus- 
band’s. He was queer in manner, and queerer, if 
there is any such word, in appearance. He was a 
large man, with a yellow beard and freckled hands. 
He was continually saying something loving in 
German to the girl that sat next him. Miss Black- 
berry, that he thought none but his lady-love under- 
stood. And when Miss Blackberry, who was a 
pretty brunette, spoke to him, he would hold up 
one of his freckled fingers, shut one eye, and put on 
such an expression of interest, that all that looked 
at him were forced to smile. I had to laugh right 


74 LADT HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


out at him, once or twice. I mention this dinner- 
}3arty because it has a connection, though perhaps 
far-fetched, with my husband’s follies. I want to 
tell the public, also, that at it Baron Dickshatband 
proposed in German to Miss Blackberry, of New 
York city, and was accepted. I heard him say to 
her in German, “ Look out for yourself ; you are 
pretty and tempting enough to eat without sugar.” 
She seemed to be delighted with this compliment, 
and her eyes sparkled vivacity into the baron’s 
light-blue orbs. “ Why, baron,” she said, “ you 
are an expert flatterer.” “ I am no flatterer,” said 
the baron, delighted. * * Beware ! 

Remember you are in the reach of my spoon — 
spoony, ain’t I ? — but what can I say but — but — 
Miss Blackberry, I love you ; I’d be delighted to 
eat — oh ! what am I saying — marry you, I mean.” 
“Well,” she said, “speak lower, though you do 
speak in German. And,” she whispered, “ I am 
yours.” 

Just think of it, that there should be found a 
man queer enough to propose to his lady-love at a 
dinner-table, in the face of many people he never 
met before. I told my husband, and during the 
serving of the wine, he made his speech to the 
diners. No wonder his name is Dickshatband. 
His great-grandparents have, most likely, like most 
other people’s ancestors, been named from some of 


ON HER HUSBANHS FOLLIES. 


75 


their peculiarities. And in this case, the baron 
has inherited the peculiarities of the ancestor from 
which he got his nomen along with the name. 

Imagine my feelings when Lord H. perpetrated 
this folly. 

^ ^ % 4 : 

Not many moons after the dinner-party I have 
been referring to, Baron Dickshatband married 
Miss Blackberry, and they now live happily to- 
gether, I believe, on Murray Hill, N. Y. City. 
The baron, with all his peculiarities, they say 
makes a good husband. The baron had a love for 
Miss Blackberry of a lasting character, and it is so 
seldom, I am informed by those who ought to know, 
that men have a love of a lasting character for the 
girls they seek in marriage. They like them be- 
cause they are w'ealthy, stylish, or beautiful. 
W ell, the reason why the baron liked Miss Black- 
berry was like the reason why other men dike 
other girls well enough to propose to them. The 
reason wh}^ the baron’s love for Miss Blackberry 
was of a different quality and more lasting than 
the love most men have for their wives, Mrs. 
Thompkins tells me, Obadiah says can only be 
found by examining Baron Dickshatband’s skull 
phrenologically. Tliere is difference in the size of 
love bumps, Mrs. Thompkins believes, and that 
the skulls of women show, as a general thing, the 


76 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


bump of love larger than the skulls of men. I am 
now getting into deep water. 

* Hs * * 

One day, as I took up the daily paper at the 
breakfast-table, I saw an advertisement that inter- 
ested me. ♦ * He 'pijq Baron Dicks- 

hatband had advertised himself to deliver a lecture. 
Now, peculiar as the baron was regarded to be 
even by his best friends, it astonished me greatly 
to find that he advertised himself to deliver a 
lecture. The lecture was advertised to be on 

“ Results,” and to be delivered on the eve of 

at Broiled Chick Hall. What kind of results the 
baron was to talk about the advertisement did not 
specify. Now, I have heard Obadiah Thompkins 
talk about results. The results that patient scien- 
tific observation and thought give the world. 
Alas ! that the results of the scientific and phil- 
osophical observation of such men as Obadiah 
Thompkins should be so hugely pessimistic ! Lately 
Obadiah Thompkins talks as though before long 
he would go over, body and soul, to the pessimistic 
philosophy of Germany. When Mrs. Obadiah 
Thompkins was Irene Macgillicuddy, Obadiah 
himself was an optimist, I believe, but he leaned 
then a little to the' side of the pessimistic philoso- 
phy. Yes, even when Mrs. Thompkins mistook 


ON HER HUSBAND^S FOLLIES. 


77 


the nature of the results he was talking about in 
so amusing a manner. 

“ I must go and hear the Baron Dickshatband’s 
lecture, by all means,” said I to my husband, at 
the time. 

“So must I,” remarked Lord H., in reply. 

The night of the baron’s lecture was stormy. 
There was a drizzling rain falling ; I began to 
consider my comfort, and to debate with ray hus- 
band the propriety of going out in such a storm. 
But the debate was carried on only that I might 
grumble a little. We Americans, I must confess, 
like to grumble as well as the English do, when 
we are put upon by monopolies of any kind ; 
when, for instance, we are compelled to stand up 
on a Brooklyn ferry-boat, or when we are com- 
pelled to drag with the skirts of our dresses a 
packing-box two or three doors, or when we are 
compelled to sweep the streets for the cleaning 
board without pay or compliment, or when we are 
compelled to shovel off the snow from the side- 
walks with our tiny, pretty feet. Yes, then we 
like to grumble, but we don’t like as well as the 
Londoners do, to work for the punishment of the 
delinquents, who force us to do their part of the 
duties of business, and to take their part of the 
municipal responsibilities upon us. After grum- 
bling at the weather to our hearts’ content, ray 


78 LADY HUCKLEBERRY EHLARCES 


husband and I went to hear Baron Dickshatband’s 
lecture, of course. 

Baron Dickshatband, when he stepped upon the 
platform, looked quite intelligent. He had the 
appearance of a man with a large fat body, which 
was the basis of a mind quite as large. He gazed 
around at his audience as though he was a man of 
general benevolence. Now the baron was reputed 
to be a materialist of the most refined kind. I had 
heard him say himself, no “ sly kick” force for him. 
He believed that there is nothing but material in 
the universe. He believed that the mind is some 
kind of stuff, that for want of a better name, and 
in imitation of some of the late English scientists, 
he called “mind stuff.” Now this mind stuff is 
of course all stuff and nonsense, according to some 
men of ability ; but, howeyer that may be, the 
Baron Dickshatband verily believed that there was 
such a thing in existence as mind stuff. To my 
mind, this term, “ mind stuff,” does not convey any 
very clear idea, but perhaps it does to Dickshat- 
band’s mind, which may be a mind of peculiar 
material, Dicksliatband’s mind, though he be- 
lieves it to be nothing but stuff, may have powers 
to comprehend the metaphysics of material that 
my mind has not. Who knows ? ❖ 

The Baron Dickshatband commenced his lecture 
by saying that it did not occur to him to remem- 


ON HER HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


79 


her that the results in the world are so numerous, 
when he choose “ Results,” as the subject of his 
lecture. In fact, he had chosen the subject of his 
lecture, he feared, too hastily. He thought it 
would be well for him to confine himself to a par- 
ticular kind of results, and leave out of discussion. 
Mormons and tenement houses. What Mormons 
and tenement houses had to do with results, he did 
not say. I expect, however, he had in his mind’s 
eye the results matrimony brings forth. 

Such thoughts, however, as the baron put forth 
in his lecture, no doubt Avere results of many hours 
of patient study and observation. He peppered 
and spiced politics. He spoke of the results of Gen. 
Grant’s travels in Africa, as likely to be of more 
use to the country, than the travels of Livingston, 
Baker or Stanley, in fact, of all three of the noble 
travelers and discoverers put together. He spoke 
of the results of the imprisoning of Tweed. How 
Reform had shaved his head and put on him the 
striped pants. How Nast had put it into the head 
of Reformers to do so. Reform, said the baron, 
is a queer bird ; it swoops down like a vulture 
on everything but its own carrion-fed young. 
It is bald-headed itself, and it goes in for tak- 
ing off the hair from everybody’s head that 
comes within reach of its talons. He spoke of the 
Hon. John Kelly, as the result of our great and 


80 


LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


growing free school system. He spoke with tears 
in his eyes as he portrayed the last hours on earth 
of the truth-telling, and only really honorable poli- 
tician, John Morrissey. Then he put forth the start- 
ling assertion that our government would always be, 
corrupt. Because corruption was the natural evo- 
lutionary result of freedom. He attempted to 
bolster up this startling, and I thought monstrously 
peculiar assertion, by a tirade of eloquence like this. 
Give a man a chance to take what he wants, and 
ten chances to one he will take it. Give a man 
freedom to put into office men that will wink at 
his lusts and covetous desires and he will put them 
there. Give a man freedom to steal without fear 
of punishment, and he will evolve, in ninety-nine 
cases out of a hundred, into a full-fledged thief. 
The idea, the baron thought, was as old as the Bible, 
that give a man freedom to do evil, and he would 
do it. 

The baron did not tell, however, that the Bible 
speaks of men being free in Christ, as though they 
have power and love to keep his commands, which 
are to do good, and not evil, to walk in the light, 
not in the darkness. Of course, it is hard for men 
to obey always the motives of the Holy Spirit. 
But there are men who scorn the secrecy of dark- 
ness, who scorn to do an evil act, though they have 
freedom to do evil, — men who never cherish, for a 


ON HER HUSBANHS FOLLIES. 


81 


moment, any desire, or thought even, that they 
think would tend to make them less in the eyes of 
their Saviour. 

But of course the baron was merely speaking 
so as to have applause for a result. 

“ Why,” said the baron, toward the close of his 
lecture, “trace the results of civilization to the 
noble men it brings forth. -Let me mention the 
aristocracy first, then the democracy,” said he. 
“There is Lord Huckleberry, — I see him before 
me — ” and, would you believe it, my dear public, 
my husband rose up, and, gazing around at the 
baron’s audience, bowed two or three times to them. 
First to one side of the house he bowed, then to 
another ; then to another, I believe, before I got 
over my surprise and mortification at his actions 
sufficiently to say to him, “ sit down.” It seems 
that the champagne or something stronger he took 
before coming out in the drizzle to ward off the 
chilly feelings, affected him badly. “ I be chilly,” 
he said," as he went to the wine closet before start- 
ing for the lecture. “ I go to take a little some- 
thing.” I wish the baron had spoken of the results 
of drinking strong drink before going out to a 
lecture. I succeeded, after one or two efforts that 
made all the eyes in the house turn upon me, in 
getting Lord Huckleberry back into his seat. I 
had no sooner succeeded in getting him quietly 
6 


82 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


seated, than the audience commenced bellowing 
out, “ Speech ! speech ! speech from Lord* Huckle- 
berry.” My husband seemed to have an insane de- 
sire to gratify their calls for a speech. He arose, 
spite of my holding on to his coat-tails with main 
strength in order to keep him down on his seat, 
and commenced a harangue something like this : 

“ I never get up to address an audience of 
Americans, with out being reminded of General 
Grant. Now General Grant’s daughter married an 
Englishman, and just see the remits in the words 
of my friend, the distinguished lecturer that we 
have just been listening to with such marked atten- 
tion. See the result. There’s President Hayes, to 
change the subject rather abruptly, should he emu- 
late General Grant, and take a trip to England, he 
would not be treated as the General was treated. 
England, however, is the greatest country in the 
world. And General Grant will remember this, 
and teach it to his children every time he thinks of 
the good dinners he has eaten there. 

“ Can you wonder that your daughters seek for 
foreign husbands, when there is no aristocracy but 
the shoddy aristocracy here. But I respect this 
country ; there is democracy here, that goes some- 
times by the name of republican, sometimes by 
the name of democrat, that is equal to the highest 
aristocracy of England. I would accord to it a 


ON HER HUSBANHS FOLLIES. 


83 


greater share of my respect than I do if it had 
more self-esteem, — were it not hoodwinked into 
believing that there is nothing worth winning, but 
gold. Americans, you are inconsistent in acknowl- 
edging coats of arms, or garters of legs, either. 
While I am in America, I expect to be of less 
account than an American, though the American 
may be of less account than myself, when I am in 
my own country.” At this juncture in his har- 
angue, my husband took his seat amidst deafening 
applause. Alas ! that my husband will not let 
strong drink alone. The mortification that my 
husband’s foolish speech caused me kept me 
awake all that night. I was disgusted with my 
husband, and embittered at him. I resolved to 
try, with the help of God, harder than I had ever 
tried before, to reform him into a temperate man. 

:j« * * * 

The day after the never-to-be-forgotten night 
of the baron Dickshatband’s lecture on Results, in 
the afternoon, I rode over to the rectory of St. 

" Aristocrat’s Church, and asked to see the rector. 
My object was to consult with him about reform- 
ing my husband into a -temperate man. The 
rector came, looking limber as a whalebone, and 
smelling of liquor, into his reception-room, where 
I was sitting awaiting his appearance. His being 
slightly under influence of liquor, however, did 


84 


LADT HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


not keep me from telling him my errand. I 
thought perhaps it would be a good plan to tell a 
clergyman that drank my desire to have him help 
me reform my drinking husband. I might, in the 
words of the proverb, “kill two birds with one 
stone.” “ Well, doctor,” I said, as soon as a fitting 
opportunity offered itself, “ I came to consult with 
you, about the best way to yeform my husband, 
who of late has committed great and wicked fol- 
lies, when under the influence of liquor. My hus- 
band calls himself a temperate drinker, — a moder- 
ate drinker, I should say, — and it is true that it is 
only once in three or four months, that he drinks 
to excess.” “ My dear Lady Huckleberry,” inter- 
rupted the clergyman, “I am convicted by my own 
conscience of the abuse of liquor, as often as your 
husband, and I call myself a temperate man ; but I 
am living an intemperate life. It seems that once 
in awhile, in spite of all my resolutions to the con- 
trary, I find myself under-the influence of liquor. 
I am surprised, as it were, into over-drinking. I 
take my usual glass of sherry, or ale, at my dinner, 
and go about, peidiaps, to visit some of my congre- 
gation, and, either thinking at the time it will be 
more of a benefit than a harm to me, I take a glass 
or two of sherry with some friend, or come home 
tired and thirsty, feeling the need of some stimu- 
lant, take a glass of brandy in my own room. It 


ON HER HUSBANH8 FOLLIES. 


85 


seems to me I am under the influence of liquor be- 
fore I know it, and I think every time I take a 
glass of brandy, on top of a glass or two of sherry, 
nothwithstanding my experience, that it is some- 
thing I need ; I have at the time, such a gone, weak 
feeling that craves so strongly a stimulant. Oh ! 
I have committed myself many, many grievous 
sins, when under the influence of liquor.” Rais- 
ing his hands towards heaven, he suddenly ex- 
claimed : “ By the help of God, I will be hereafter 
a temperate man, and I will pray earnestly for, and 
do all I can, to reform your husband. Only think 
of it, even the heathen Felix trembled when St. 
Paul reasoned of ‘ righteousness, temperance, and 
judgment to come,’ and why should not I, a minis- 
ter of Christ, tremble when I hear about the evils 
of abusing liquor. I will, by the help of God, be- 
come first a temperate man myself, and then I will 
try and make your husband like me in that respect.” 
Here let me draw the curtain, and hang it before 
the temperance lecturer. % ^ 

I have heard that God blessed the rector of St. 
Aristocrat’s Church, and that he is now an esti- 
mable Christian and a temperate man. He has 
reasoned and worked with my husband to make 
him a temperate man, like himself, and with some 
success. My husband is gradually putting one side 
the intoxicating cup. Like the waves of the sea, 


86 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


when the tide is coming in, I can see that Time 
wills more water to flow in, and though there is an 
apparent flowing back towards the ocean of intem- 
perance, still on the whole there is a gaining of the 
tide of sobriety on the shore of safety. What 
a mixed metapho«r my feelings on the subject of 
temperance have led me to make use of, to illus- 
trate my husband’s improvement towards sobriet)^ ! 
I have been mixing water and wine pretty freely, 
lately, one would think, but they would be mis- 
taken. 

:ic 4: 4: ^ ^ 

:ic ^ ^ 

I was taken sick, and shortly after the night of 
Baron Dickshatband’s lecture on Results, and 
everything in the shape of MSS. is of little ac- 
count to me. I concluded to leave my MS., then as 
I broke off, on account of my sickness (the place is 
shown by two rows of stars, as above). I have a 
little Huckleberry to ripen now ; he was born in 

America, in the W House. I think he will 

ripen into the finest Huckleberry the world has 
ever looked upon. I mean to train him up for presi- 
dent of the United States — that Ls, if the United 
States is in existence when he becomes a man. 
* * But I must stop writing ^ 

and put him in his little bed, for being in my lap 
his rapid little legs are propelling his feet against 


ON BEH HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


87 


my hand. Oh ! as I squeeze the little Huckleberry, 
I think of the agony and the joy of living. The 
agony — is it greater than the joy ? — oh ! let the 
pessimists answer yes, as often as they will. God, 
who put the mother’s love in her heart, speaks of 
the joy that is greater in breadth than the world, 
and higher in ecstacy than the heavens. Oh ! Love, 
the heavens are all too narrow for thy home. * * 

I may be a pessimist when I think of the pain 
that is in the world, but I am an optimist when I 
think of Christ, who is Conqueror of the world and 
above it, and more than it. I rejoice always in the 
Lord. What makes a pessimist but a wrong view 
of the end for which all things are and were 
created ? 

4 : 4 : 

Once I thought myself that the world was 
created only to be a great pleasure-ground, but 
now I am afraid, that if the world is all “ mind 
stuff,” it is a poor kind of stuff in some places; that 
is, on the hypothesis of a creation only for man’s 
pleasure ground. This is a topic I do not now care 
to discuss, however, now, as I am preparing to 
choose a nurse for my sou, my little Huckleberry 
boy. 

I will choose for you a good Christian woman 
for a nurse. I am beginning, my dear boy, to bor- 
row trouble on your account already. I am afraid 


88 LADY * HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


your father’s predisposition to strong drink is born 
in you, and his aristocratic notions. But I mean 
to use all my power, and be vigilant, so that by 
God’s help none of your predispositions to vice 
will grow strong enough to bear fruit, and I mean, 
by the help of God, by good Christian discipline, 
to root out all the seeds of evil I can. My policy 
shall be to educate your best tendencies, and train 
them upward, to prune, and dwarf, and crush out, 
as far as possible, all your evil tendencies. I hope 
my boy will be as strong a man in intellect and will, 
as U. S. Grant, and as good a Christian, and as 
temperate a man as Mr. R. B. Hayes. I would 
rather have him an Episcopalian than a Methodist, 
but if he only grows up pious, I won’t worry much 
about his views of church polity. 

When I question myself about the chances my 
little Huckleberry stands, to live to be a man, I 
find it seems to me to depend, under God, mostly 
on what he eats and drinks. I am singular about 
my own eating and drinking. Life ta the rest of 
the Huckleberry family is pleasant, I sometimes 
think, only because it is full of pleasant surprises 
for their palates. Huckleberry tarts and huckle- 
berry wine have come to be household words. I 
mean, however, to bring my bo}^ up to let them 
both severely alone. I want him to develop into a 
man who thinks much of the spirit, but not much of 


ON HER HUSBAND'S FOLLIES. 


89 


the “ wine when it is red, when it giveth its color to 
the cup.” I want him to think of something else 
besides eating, drinking and being merry. The in- 
ward man is renewed day by day, without partaking 
of chowder, or huckleberry wine, or blackberry pie. 
But I admit that spiritual things need, as far as we 
poor mortals are concerned, a food basis. Tran- 
scendental philosophers may talk as much as they 
please about the spirit, and I believe in the power 
of the spirit, its ability to control the flesh ; but in 
order to have flesh for the spirit to control, I be- 
lieve in a food basis, in good healthy food. I say 
it reverently, and I hope believingly. I hope, how- 
ever, that food and clothing of the kind and 
quality required, will be added unto all who as 
Christians, ‘‘ seek first the Kingdom of God and 
His righteousness,” as free air is added to God’s 
ocean. 4: * * ♦ 

Oh, kiss me, my darling care, and joy, my 
Huckleberry boy. * * 4s Now, Lord Huckle- 

berry, I often say your follies and escapades bring 
me into great trouble about my boy. I fear he has 
inherited them, and — “and what are you going to 
do about it,” says my husband, bless the little 
Huckleberry’s heart. 

If my husband had been born in Ireland instead 
of staid, dignified, old mother England, he could 
not have been more full of blarney. Pshaw ! 


90 LADY HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


wlio’d be a wife until they were hlase, but who’d 
be an old maid and do without a husband to man- 
age. Lord Huckleberry and I get along well 
enough together. I am not sorry I married bim ; 
I say it again. I have to bring him to terms once 
in a while, but I don’t grow rude with him. I 
generally throw a pillow at his aristocratic head, 
and then muss his shirt collar with my non-aristo- 
cratic fingers. I mean, figuratively speaking I do 
this. Oh ! how Irene and I used to fight, unfig- 
urately but realistically speaking, with pillows for 
sport — but it is but little sport to fight with pil- 
lows, metaphorically speaking. I have laughed 
until the buttons burst off my sacque, when I have 
knocked, with a well-directed blow with a pillow, 
Irene’s waterfall off. They used to wear waterfalls 
in those days, and rats and mice,' which were 
partly made of false and deceiving hair. Oh ! 
Irene was not above these pomps and vanities of 
fashion then, like she is now. She was not a mem- 
ber of the church, and did not say, ‘‘From the 
pomps and vanities of this wicked world, good Lord, 
deliver us.” She does now, every Sunday; but she 
said to her Heavenly Father, if she said anything 
to Him in those days, “ Bring me the thick of op- 
portunity to get the pleasures of fashionable life.” 
Her nature then craved show and glitter, titles and 
stars and garters and baubles of the French what- 


ON HER HUSBANHS FOLLIES. 


91 


not character. But nothing now, I think, could 
bring Irene back to- her romps with dame Fashion, 
but I think if she should come in this minute, I 
could inaugurate a pillow fight with her, for the 
benefit of my health, so I could be strong to bring 
up my boy. She’d say, my husband says, it 
will put red corpuscles in your blood, and roses 
will consequently bloom on your cheeks. A good 
romp with Irene, — oh ! how I long for it ; it would 
make me better able to write for the public some- 
thing interesting. It would make me better able 
to bring up my boy in the way he should go, be- 
cause it would make me healthier. 

Above all things but my God I like a good romp 
in the fresh air, with somebody I like that I can 
romp with without scruple. I have romped in my 
time, I can tell you. Gracious goodness ! 

Let me relate something that occurred one rainy 
day, when things outside the house were gloomy 
and black as bituminous coal, when the window- 
panes were dashed and splashed with rain- drops. I 
was standing in my bed-room, and before a glass 
trying to practice looking child-like and natural, for 
I had just finished reading Mr. Obadiah Thomp- 
kins’ book called “ Unnaturalness is Ugliness.” In 
it he has shown that the distinction of being emi- 
nently useful and virtuous is allowed to all who 
will ignore fashion, and live as near as possible like 


92 LADY HUCKLEBEimY ENLARGES 

“the old patriarchs lived in good old Abraham’s 
time.” 

There he says, “ if people would show by 
ignoring the idea of caste, that they believe the 
Scriptures that tell us, ‘ that all men are brethren, 
no matter what color they may wear, or how they 
may dress,’ they would be living proper lives. 
The staid, quiet, natural woman, also, is more, in 
Obadiah’s opinion, than the loud, diamond-pow- 
dered, and diamond-puffed, glaring bedazzler of 
weak-willed, fashionable men.” Should a blue- 
stocking be born to Mr. Thompkins, possessed of 
the good qualities of both father and mother, fash- 
ion and folly had better flee, or drown themselves 
in the sea. 

Obadiah is not a woman’s rights agitator, I am 
sorry to say. He seems to think that even if it 
were well to give women as good an education as 
men, it would be ill to give them men’s voting to 
do, or, in fact, any kind of men’s work to do. 
Obadiah says there are natural differences between 
the male and female humans, as he calls us. He 
examined the heads of all animals, and says that 
they show us that the female has less brains than 
the male. According to Mr. Thompkins, especially 
is this shown, as an indisputable fact, among the 
remains of pliocene jackasses. And, argues Oba- 
diab, if all female jackasses have less brains than 


ON HER IIU8BANNS FOLLIES. 


93 


male jackasses, it follows that women, though they 
are often mulish, have less of the jackasses’ brains 
than the men possess. Mr. Thompkins has got to 
using Evarts’ style of sentences, and I do not al- 
ways grasp his points when he lectures. It may 
be that I have misunderstood his jackass theory. 
Excuse me, my dear public, for not relating 
the something I asked permission to relate. 
* * * ♦ * 
Like a jackass, when alive and able to frisk among 
the meads and prairies, I executed the Macgilli- 
cuddy jig for exercise, in loose and unrestraining 
costume that morning. How natural it seemed to 
me ! I begin to think after all what a good time 
the barbarians have. The uncivilized dance, nearly 
naked, beneath the spreading, broad-leaved trees 
of the tropics. Only think ! they have no social 
restraints to gall them, they are not prisoned in 
tight-fitting dresses, either. Fashion is not their 
god, but they, alas, bow down to wood and stone. 
There is always a thorn in every crown of roses. 
The barbarian does not believe in Christ Jesus, and 
consequently cannot be hajDpy, because there is no 
happiness for the unbeliever in Him, 

After all, I would rather be prisoned in a real 
dungeon of stone walls and darkness, that could 
also be felt outside me and around me, let alone — 
(is that grammar — ‘‘ let alone ” ?) — be prisoned only 


94 LADT HUCKLEBERRY ENLARGES 


in the robes of fashion, than be a heathen and an 
unbeliever in the atonement and satisfaction of my 
Lord and my God for my sins. * * By the by, 

Obadiah Thompkins is not clear in his mind about 
this doctrine of the atonement. I was talking to 
him the other day on religious subjects. He seems 
to be of the opinion that a man who exercises his 
benevolent affections, who gives his time and 
talents as a sacrifice for the amelioration of man- 
kind, will be saved, no matter whether he believes 
in Jesus and the atonement He made for our sins 
or not. I must say that I don’t agree with him, 
for can God be just and not punish those who 
transgress his laws ? And how can God give 
Heaven to men who are committing follies every 
day? Without holiness can any man see the Lord, 
and can any man have holiness whom God consid- 
ers in his or her own person, and not in the Beloved ? 
I believe that by grace we are saved, through 
faith, and that faith makes us one with Jesus the 
Lamb, without spot or blemish, who was sacrificed 
for our sins willingly, and so that God can be just, 
and still the justifier of all who believe in Him. 

* * * * He 

And why, Obadiah Thompkins asked me one 
time, shall God punish us for the sins we com- 
mit, unless we believe in Jesus Christ as the 
Scriptures set Him forth ? Because, I said in an- 


ON HER HUSBANH8 FOLLIES. 


95 


swer, God is just, and must vindicate his character 
as the just Judge. “ Well,” said Mr. Thompkins, 
“if we believe in Jesus, then why does he remit 
all punishment ?” “ Because,” I answering said, 

“ God’s will being sovereign and supreme, Jesus 
Christ willed to lay down his life for us, to be 
bruised for iniquities, and God the Father willed 
to accept His sacrifice — His atonement, oblation, 
and satisfaction for the sins of the whole world ; 
and now, ‘if any man sin, we have an advocate 
with the Father, Jesus Christ, the righteous, and 
He is the propitiation for our sins,’ if we believe 
it. If this Jesus, in the power of God, the Holy 
Ghost, willingly sacrificed himself for the sins of 
the world, then willingly breathed the Holy Spirit 
into His disciples, and the Holy Spirit willingly 
makes those who believe in Jesus, one with God, 
then it follows that God can be just without pun- 
ishing sinners who believe in His Son.” 

Oh ! that Obadiah was less of a scientist and 
more of a Christian, for he answered me and my 
arguments with a shake of the head, a nod in the 
direction of the picture of a skeleton hanging in 
his reception-room, where we were talking. 

He afterwards explained his nod in the skeleton- 
direction by saying, “After all, hell maybe only a 
skeleton of the mind’s evolving. Who knows that 
evolution is not true ? 1 am a scientist, and I be- 


96 LADY UUGKLEBEUR7 ENLARGES 

lieve in a body, but I don’t see any reason to 
believe in a soul.” I changed the subject, because I 
thought then it wag no use talking to such a man 
about things that are not naturally, but spiritually 
discerned. Alas ! that I did not think of trying to 
make Obadiah see that he mnst admit, if no more, 
at least, a possibility that the Bible may be true ; 
and, at least, the possibility that it may be true 
that he has a soul to save. I should have made 
him admit these possibilities, and then have shown 
him the awful things that might happen to his soul 
unless he believed in Jesus. We all have our fol- 
lies, and though a scientist is a better man, in some 
respects, than a Miss Nancy follower of fashion, 
or a shallow-brained aristocrat, or an English lord, 
— I was nearly saying, who spends too much on 
fashionable amusements, and drinks too much 
wine, — a scientist, as a rule, in many respects is a 
worse man than these, because he ignores, as a gen- 
eral thing, the Scriptures. 

The scientist has his follies, as well as the so- 
called popinjay, or the aristocrat, whether of the 
male or female gender ; and a man who has many 
follies, unless he is a scientist, may be led by good 
preaching to abandon them. But what preaching 
has ever yet converted an imitator or believer in 
Tyndall, Huxley, or Darwin ? After drawing my 
blood to my brain, and heating myself almost to a 


ON HER HUSBANHS ^FOLLIES. 


97 


feverish temperature, with the force of my argu- 
ment with Obadiah Thompkins, how grateful was 
it to me to romp a little with him and his wife on 
their broad lawn. 

Oh ! Obadiah, your ideas about physical 
things are good, but no one who loves Jesus can 
say your^ideas about spiritual things are so. But 
don’t let us grow so solemn. Ah ! it is well enough 
to say don’t, but we can’t help it, and I mean to 
make this paper of some moral use to the world. 
Ah ! Irene was right, after all, in thinking that the 
world is stuffed with sawdust. But let me conclude 
my paper about follies with exclaiming— Alas ! 
alas ! that scientific men, as a general thing, can- 
not see the necessity of believing in Jesus Christ, 
as the Scriptures set Him forth. I think, however, 
Irene will make her husband able to see it before 
he is many years older. I hope so, for, after all, 
what will the many things he has done to further 
the cause of science amount to, as far as he is con- 
cerned personally, if only those who believe in the 
Lord Jesus Christ shall be saved, and if, as so many 
good men tell us, there is a place of everlasting 
punishment awaiting all headstrong, willful unbe- 
lievers. * 

Lord Huckleberry — and oh ! bow anxious I am 
about the state of his sold, for he is one neighbor I 
love as mi^rself — has told me that, by the help of 
7 


98 LADY HUCKLEBERRY. 

God, he will strive to lead a godly, righteous, and 
sober life in future. Oh, how happy these words 
of my husband have made me ! I lay down my 
pen to kneel with him and pray that God will help 
him in all his ways to acknowledge Him, and guide 
and direct his path. 


A ROMANCE 


OF 

A YACHTING PARTY, 

THAT IS MORE THAN ROMANTIC I . 


CHAPTER • 1. 

‘‘But there my fare was all so light and delicate; 

The Fruit, the Cakes, the Meats so dainty frail, 
They would not leave a bite — no, not a munch. 

But melted away like ice.” — Hood. 

New Brighton, S. L, June 5, 187- 
My dear Plelen: — Where shall I begin first in 
the list of things I have to tell you about ? for I 
am honorable enough to wish to hold to my prom- 
ise to keep you informed as to all the fun in the 
place you and I had such a gay time last winter, 
and I assure you, my dear, you are not forgotten, 
for constant inquiries are made concerning “ Miss 
Moss,” and your old flame. Will Sanderson, asks 

[99] 


100 


A ROMANCE OF 


in the most wistful manner, “When will Miss 
Helen return to Staten Island ?” And he is not 
the only one who desires your prompt return ; you 
are such a favorite with both young and old, that 
when your fond auntie will let you go, your wel- 
come home will be very warm, and your friend, 
who is giving you some of her valuable time in 
this letter, will be very happy to have her friend 
near her again. But enough of incidental remarks. 
I must proceed to give the interesting portion of 
my epistle. You remember I wrote you of the 
new people who had bought Mr. Hill’s elegant 
place, and were coming for the summer, and per- 
haps remain all winter, too, and who are reported 
to be immensely wealthy, cultured, and in every 
way delightful ; you can draw on your imagina- 
tion for all the virtues likely to belong to them. 
No matter what they are, good, bad or indifferent, 
they have come, and the family consists of a 
stately-looking woman, Mrs. Holden, and a son. 
Fancy the excitement in our circle of acquaint- 
ances when the fact that an eligible young man had 
settled in the neighborhood was learned. Imme- 
diately all the mammas with marriageable daugh- 
ters, and their numbers are legion, flocked to call 
on My Lady, taking their girls with them, to ex- 
hibit them, as it were, and came away loud in her 
praises and discreetly pleased with the charming 


A TAGHTING PARTY, 


101 


heir, who was most attentive to the matrons, know- 
ing, probably, who held the keys of the vigilantly 
guarded castles the fair damsels inhabited. 

I have said the mothers praised him, now I will 
tell what the girls say. He is a good-looking 
man, blonde, tall, and undoubtedly stylish, but 
affects the Lord Dundreary style too much ; 
drawls, and does not seem to have more than 
enough energy than is required to move ; but, 
between you and I, I think it is as natural for him 
to make mal-apropos and silly speeches as it is to 
breathe. But, Helen, people forget and overlook 
his absurdities when they recollect his wealth, and 
as that’s the way of the world, I suppose we must 
do so, too. Well, I comfort myself with the 
knowledge, that with all his nonsense lie is per- 
fectly upright in all his ways ; hasn’t brains enough 
to be bad, I told Mamma yesterday, and my flip- 
pancy shocked her. He opened the season’s fes- 
tivities by a grand garden-party. It was intended 
by Lord Holden, as he is called, that it should be 
like other parties of the kind ; but his bad angel, 
as the children say, seems to have bewildered him, 
and the whole thing was a farce. His invitations 
were gotten up regardless of expense, were deci- 
dedly unique in design, and were immensely ad- 
mired, even though they were fine enough for a 
full dress wedding instead of a Lawn Party. 


103 


A ROMANCE OF 


At four we were asked to assemble on the ele- 
gant grounds, which give one a faint idea of fairy- 
land, so exquisite are the flowers, and so pretty are 
the glades with the graceful deer, just seen to be 
lost again, and the secluded lovers’ walks, which 
John and I enjoyed as much as though oiir engage- 
ment had been a month and not a year old. Every 
one came, young and old ; the fathers to shake 
hands with the eligible new-comer, and extend 
cordial invitations to make “ my house your home,” 
etc., — you know it all — while the mothers went 
into raptures over all they saw, and all but con- 
gratulated Mrs. Holden upon being the mother of 
such a “ charming young man,” and I do not 
doubt but each lady then and there resolved to 
leave no stone unturned that would help her child 
to captivate the lord of all this luxury, be he wise 
or foolish. Well, we played croquet, and lawn 
tennis, tried our skill at archery, and walked about 
with some chosen companion, until we all gathered 
together to partake of houillon^ which we young 
1 people enjoyed, but which was an aggravation to 
the seniors of the party, who expected, I think, 
that a supper would be served. It was not to be 
wondered at ; people over forty want their six 
o’clock dinner, and bouillon, even though it is 
fashionable, does not answer the purpose, and so 
my lord should have known. I was standing near 


A YACBTmG PABTY. 


103 


Mr. Knapp — you know what a wag he is — when 
Mr. Dow approached, with the inquiry how 
“ Knapp was enjoying himself ?” “ In the most 

delightful manner if this tantalizing drop of beef 
tea was only a big bowl of soup,” was the reply, 
in a very grave tone of voice, and that was the 
universal feeling. 

When the dew commenced to fall we entered 
the house, and spent a most enjoyable evening 
dancing on perfect floors and to most inspiring 
music ; and, you may not believe it, nevertheless 
it’s a fact, there were more men than girls, a thing 
I never before saw on the Island, so in that respect 
Lord Holden’s party was a success. 

By eleven every one was as hungry as possible ; 
what else could be expected ? The young people 
had been taking exercise in the open air, and then 
dancing, while neither young nor old had had any 
dinner, so when supper was announced all were 
delighted, and visions of salads, oysters, and what 
not, floated before one’s imagination, and there 
they continued to float, for the reality consisted of 
creams, ices, jellies, confections, and such light 
eatables ! The table made an elegant appearance, 
and all that was on it was the best of its kind, but, 
I am sure, some people wanted to groan, but they 
forbore, and made the best of what was set before 
them ; still, it was a very hungry and silent party 


104 


A ROMANCE OF 


that filled the siipper-roora, except when Mr. Hol- 
den, anxious to serve his lady, would not wait far 
the waiters, but attempted to help her to jelly, and 
it proved such a flabby, slippery compound that, 
after many vain efforts to get it on the spoon, he 
succeeded, but only to drop it on the floor, and 
then, peering at it in his near-sighted way, he 
remarked : “ Aw — something — aw — dropped,” and 
every one laughed. I can imagine your face when 
you have finished this letter, also the opinion you 
will have formed of our host. He asked me, dur- 
ing the evening, to take a walk, to see how prettily 
the garden looked, brilliantly illuminated with 
hundreds of colored lanterns, and it was charm- 
ing ; every tree and shrub had one or more hang- 
ing on their boughs, making it as light as day, but 
giving the whole scene a splendor no sun ever 
did. We could see the people promenading up 
and down the walks, one moment in the shadow, 
the next in the full blaze of light, and the sounds 
of merry voices and light laughter came to us, 
mingled with the entrancing measures of a Strauss 
waltz, that floated out of the ©pen windows of the 
brightly lighted house. 

In the course of our rambles we approached 
the kitchen garden, where I noticed a bed of some 
exquisite green plant, but which looked so 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


105 


strangely in the glare of ' the lanterns, that I did 
not recognize it. 

• “ Why,” said I, “ that is pretty enough to be 

on the lawn ; what is it ?” 

My lord left me, and picked his way daintily 
over the damp grass, inspected the plants, and 
returned with, “That, Miss Wood, is — aw — let- 
tuce ! Lettuce — aw — remain.” 

As soon as I could command my voice, I de- 
clined, not knowing what Other remark he might 
make, at which I would have to laugh, without 
regard for consequences. Our talk turned upon 
the charms of travel, and I asked if he had enjoyed 
his European tour of two years, and then, always 
anxious to learn people’s ^y^inions, I inquired if he 
had been wonderstruck with the grand St. Paul’s 
and Westminster Abbey. 

Said he, “ I — aw — didn’t spend — aw — much 
time— aw — in London, and didn’t examine them.” 

That last was too much for me, so we returned 
to the house and supper. Talking it all over the 
next day, we did have a pleasant time, we con- 
cluded, but we are all in hopes that next time Mr. 
Holden will have some substantials for supper. 
Some of the gentlemen had the impertinent wit to 
dub it “Starvation Party,” and I am quite sure if 
either the host or hostess hear of it, they will be 
provoked, and justly, methinks. When John left 


106 


A OF 


me at the door that night, Papa, who had reached 
home before us, called to him from the dining- 
room. “ Come in, John, and have something to 
eat. I know you need it,” and J ohn came in, and 
we all had a hearty meal at two o’clock in the 
morning. 

So much for our last excitement, or rather one 
of our last. The other is the arrival of a Mr. de 
Jouville from France, who is, as his name implies, 
a Frenchman, but only by descent, he having been 
born in this country, and marrying an American. 
In the course of time she died, and he was so 
grief-stricken because she did so, and left him with 
seven children ou his hands, that he departed for 
France, leaving these ppor little orphans on his 
estate near here, in the. charge of nurses. I assure 
you my heart bleeds for those poor little children 
left in such a desolate way, and I really believe if 
I didn’t care so much for my dear old John, I 
would send him off, and try for this widower, or 
rather, take him as a necessary evil that I might 
care for and benefit these dear little angels. 

You know Mamma always said my fate would 
be either to marry a widowei’ with seven children 
or be the matron of an orphan asylum, and I know 
of no asylum that needs a matron more than that 
of Mr. de Jouville’s. I told John that last night, 
and though he said nothing I could see it worried 


A YAGHTim PARTY, 


107 


him. I do wish he was not so absurdly jealous, 
but I have wished that ever since Ave were engaged 
and it hasn’t as yet accomplished the desired 
result. 

I have not yet seen Mr. de Jouville, and as I 
'was a child when he Avent away, I do not remem- 
ber his appearance, but I hear he is handsome, 
dark, and Avears a most bewitching air of melan- 
choly, but whether he is still grieving over his 
“dear departed,” or is mourning over his large 
family, I cannot say ; but he is charming, every 
one says, and I am quite anxious to meet him. 
The “ charming ” of other people may mean some- 
thing very different to me. 

I liave had no sails this year. John, you know, 
won’t go, on account of that feeling of timidity he 
has upon the water, and Avhich I never understood 
until recently. It seems, Avhen a child, a cousin of 
his, thinking to torment him, took him out on the 
river in a roAV-boat, and when some distance from 
shore began to violently rock the boat, and finally 
tipped it over, throAving John in the water, and 
causing his already overwrought nerves to receive 
such a shock that he has never been induced since 
to enter a roAV or sail-boat,. or even a yacht. He 
is very much ashamed of his weakness, but it has 
become almost second nature, and he is rather to 
be pitied than blamed. I have refused all invita- 


108 


A ROMANCE OF 


tions for his sake, and I am tired of it, and so I 
told him ; and I intend to accept all such invita- 
tions that are extended to me hereafter. I dislike 
leaving him, but I think he should endeavor to 
overcome this timidity ; it’s the only weak thing I 
ever saw in John, and I felt sorry for him when 
he described the awful sensation it was to have 
the cold, dark water close over his head, and he 
only a little delicate child, ten years old. I am 
glad that cousin is dead, for I would never have 
spoken to him for tormenting John so dreadfully 
that he suffers intensely even now at the idea of 
entering a row-boat ! Still, I think he would en- 
joy yachting, and I intend to use all my powers of 
persuasion soon, but not on the occasion of Mr. 
Holden’s yachting party, ten days off. 

My lord has invited a dozen choice spirits to 
accompany him on a trip in his beautiful yacht, 
the “ Pirate,” our voyage, I believe, to be wherever 
the party care to go, for he has the happy faculty, 
with all his queerness, of being a charming host, 
and making every one feel perfectly at home, so 
it will be his guests’ pleasure, not his, that is con- 
sulted. 

And now I am coming to the most important 
part of this rambling epistle, — you are invited, and 
must, come, for Mr. Holden and I are leagued to- 
gether, and will take no denial. I am positive you 


A FACBTmG PAJiTF. 


109 


will accept his invitation when you hear that he 
desires to be your escort on board the yacht when- 
ever you require his “ services — aw.” We start on 
the 20th, and Lord Holden and I confidently ex- 
pect you, and I and others have so worked upon 
his susceptible heart, by tales of your beauty and 
amiability, that he is ready, if you but encourage 
him, to offer hand, wealth and heart ; so do not 
allow any new gra7ide passion to interfere with 
your catching of this unusually fine game. Such a 
chance don’t come every day, my dear. 

Our party, I have heard, consists of our host 
and yourself ; Mr. and Mrs. Guion, the latter the 
matron of the whole affair ; Ned Hayes and his 
lady-love, Ella King ; Brother Jack and Kate 
Jackstire, and one or two others. John was in- 
vited, but says he won’t go ; but I shall not be 
utterly desolate, as I hear Mr. de Jouville is in- 
vited, and Mrs. Guion, who told me, says: “You 
will have an excellent opportunity to captivate 
the head of the orphan asylum on our voyage, as 
you say John is not going,” and, confidentially, I 
intend to do so, leave lovers and care on land, and 
enjoy myself as though no such things existed. I 
have not dared mention Mr. de Jouville’s going to 
John — he might make such a fuss that I would be 
obliged to remain at home, and that’s a thing I 
don’t care to do,. John or no John. 


110 


A ROMANCE OF 


Mrs. Guion, who always seems to wear just 
the right thing at just the right time, has requested 
all the ladies to wear regular yachting costumes ; 
and, though we will not be a very elegant set in 
appearance, we will be ready for anything that is 
going, and, of course, we will each take some dress 
to wear on shore, if the spirit so moves us. 

Well, on the 15th I expect you, and do brighten 
up all your charms for the benefit of My lord ; but 
whatever you do, don^t tell John that Mr. de Jou- 
ville is going with us ! 

Affectionately your friend, 

Gektkitde Wood. 

CHAPTER II. 

“No true love there can be without 
Its dread penalty, — ^jealousy .” — Owen Meredith, 

While Miss Gertrude Wood was writins: the 
preceding letter in her own cozy bed-chamber, her 
lover, John Church, is striding up and down his 
apartments some half a dozen blocks away, seem- 
ingly much worried over something, for his fore- 
head is knit in a heavy frown, and his hands are 
clenched behind him. No apparent cause for 
anxiety is to be seen, but on the contrary, every 
thing about the room denotes wealth and refine- 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


Ill 


ment, and he, young and fine looking, looks as 
though he could enjoy, when in a more cheerful 
mood, the good things of life. 

On the mantel, which is tastfully drapped with 
gay creton, and covered with various quaint de- 
vices in rare old china, is a velvet frame, contain- 
ing a lifelike picture of Miss Wood, delicately 
tinted, and to which his eyes turn instinctivly 
every time he passes it in the walk. At last he 
paused before it, and leaning his elbows on the 
mantel, at the risk of demolishing some of the 
delicate ornaments, he gazes long and earnestly on 
the sweet pictured face, noting, as he had done 
hundreds of times before, the tender brown eyes, 
and the womanly expression that seemed so stead- 
fast and true. 

“I wish I knew,” he murmured, “ whether she 
is really true to me. I know I’m fool, but I can’t 
help it. I know Gertrude loves me, but I also know 
she is fond of a gay time, and plenty of attention, 
which she does not at all object to receive from 
some other man if I am not around. 

“When I am with her she seems to have no 
desire for the homage of any one else, but I don’t* 
doubt when she is alone she is delighted to chat 
with any body of the other sex. Didn’t I see it last 
week on the steamboat ? She hadn’t the slightest 
idea I was on board, and there she was talking 


A ROMANCE OF 


iia 

with all animation and delight to Holden, making 
him think, from her glances and winning ways, that 
he was the only man worth talking to. But then 
she seemed glad to see me when I joined her, and 
not a bit ashamed at her conduct, and couldn’t un- 
derstand why I was so glum, and to give the old 
boy his due, I don’t really think she imagined I 
had seen her flirting, and I didn’t tell her I had, 
for she would only have denied it, and we would 
have had a fuss. 

“ With all her amiability,” he mused, as he 
turned from the picture, and recommenced his 
promenade, “ she has a firm will of her own, and 
won’t give up this yachting party that Philip 
Holden is getting up, and I suspect it is because 
that blamed old widower, de Jouville, is going, 
and she is profoundly interested in him, and all on 
account of his seven children, for she has never 
seen him. v 

“ Gertrude will flirt with him, just as sure as the 
sun is shining, and here Pll be, on shore, a victim 
to my own foolish fears, and she will be as free as 
air to act as she choses.” 

The picture was so vivid to him, of liis be- 
trothed being sweet and interesting to some other 
man when he was far away, that he stamped on 
the floor and was angry enough to shoot this other 


A YACHTING PABTY. 


113 


man, if he happened to see him within a proper 
distance and not too heavily armed. 

“I can’t, I won’t let her go !” he exclaimed 
aloud, “ but I don’t see how I’m to prevent it. I 
can’t endure the thought of sailing around on 
that treacherous element, and to have a yachting 
excursion on dry land to suit me would be an im- 
possibility and he laughed at the idea. 

“I wonder if I am selfish,” he thought; “I 
don’t mean to be ; and yet, to ask her to remain at 
home when she looks forward with so much pleas- 
ure to this excursion would be the height of selfish- 
ness, even though I am firmly convinced she cares 
more for the introduction to Mr. de Jouville than 
she does for anything else. John Church,” and 
he advances to the mirror, “be a man, conquer 
your foolish timidity, and join this yachting party 
if it kills you. You are not jealous, man, not a bit 
of it, only you can’t bear to think of your in- 
tended wife lavishing those precious smiles of 
hers on any lord of creation but yourself. I do 
not really think the girl intends to do wrong, but 
she is so fond of attention that she will be pleas- 
ant to any one, and she is so charming that 
she will always have plenty of beaux. I have it, 
John ; consult Guion and Holden and go, yes, 
and be even with Gertrude, come what may !” 

Turning to his desk, he seated himself and rap- 


114 


A ROMANCE OF 


idly penned one note to Gruion and another to 
Philip, requesting their immediate presence, if pos- 
sible, at his rooms, important business being on 
hand. To ring for a servant and despatch the notes 
took but a moment, and he then settled himself in 
a huge arm-chair, lighted a cigar, and, while wait- 
ing for the arrival of his friends, thought over and 
matured the plan that had prompted him to write 
the notes. In about twenty minutes Guion tapped 
at the door, and entering before John could speak, 
said : 

‘‘Your note just caught me, John. Nettie and 
I were going over to Camp Washington for a 
game of tennis ; but I knew if you said it was 
important it must be so, and I let Nettie go on 
alone while I hastened here.” 

“ Thanks, Harry,” said Church, rising and push- 
ing a chair and a handful of cigars towards his 
guest, “ I knew I could depend on you for I’m in 
a deuce of a fix, old boy, and want you to help pull 
me out of it.” 

“ Money, J ohn V If so, command me ; but I 
can’t imagine the prudent John Church in need of 
that sort of assistance.” 

“ No, no,” hastily answerd the other, “it isn’t 
money. I almost wish it was, but thank you just 
the same. The truth is, Guion, I don’t like the 
idea of Gertrude going on this yachting trip with- 


A TACHTING PARTY. 


115 


out me, and I don’t want to go at all — but that is 
all foolishness. She is as lovely and as loving a 
woman as ever lived, but she is too fond of admir- 
ation, and it is impossible not to admire her, at 
least, I ” 

“In a word, my boy, you are jealous, and en- 
tirely without cause, I believe ; for though your 
lady-love is fond of attention, as all women are, 
she is devoted to you, but is inclined, I must say, 
to look with pitying eye on all widowers with a 
flock of children. I heard her lamenting the 
other night to my wife that a certain Mr. de 
Jouville’s cherubs should be so neglected,” Guion 
mischievously added, well knowing he was adding 
fuel to the flame of jealousy. 

“ You needn’t rub it in, Harry,” John ex- 
claimed, springing up and walking to the window, 
but seeing none of the beautiful view just touched 
by the setting sun. After a moment’s silence, 
which Guion improved by starting his cigar, he 
turned, and in a repressed tone of voice, said, “So 
Miss Wood has mentioned the widower to your 
wife ; what else did she say?” 

“I really can’t remember,” was the reply, 
between the puffs at the cigar. “ I was reading at 
the time, and only thought it some girlish non- 
sense, though I was rather surprised,” he went on, ' 
after a moment’s pause, “to hear her say she 


116 


A ROMANCE OF 


thought it would be a glorious thing to bring up 
those children ; but Nettie and I laughed so at 
her enthusiasm, that she dropped the momentous 
subject.” 

“ Did she dare make any more such disgraceful 
remarks?” inquired John, pale with anger. 

“ Not that I recollect,” was Guion’s composed 
answer. 

“ Harry, I have been brooding over this thing 
ever since dinner, and I have a plan — ah, here’s 
Holden,” as a knock on the door was heard. “ I 
sent for. him. Good-evening, Phil, it’s kind of you 
to come so soon, it’s only an hour since I sent the 
note.” 

“ Aw — knew you wanted me — aw — hurried, 
fact — aw — feel exhausted,” and he threw himself 
down on a lounge with a heavy sigh of fatigue. 

“ I say, Holden have you invited de Jouville 
yet ?” asked Church, abruptly. 

“Aw — forgot it — aw — will to-morrow,” was the 
lazy reply. 

“ No, don’t. I want to carry out a plan, and I 
want you fellows to help me,” said energetic John, 
now thoroughly aroused to the imagined danger 
that threatened his happiness. 

“Hear, hear!” exclaimed Guion, with a laugh. 
“John has an idea! Did you ever have one, 
Phil ?” 


A TACHTING PARTY. 


117 


‘‘ Aw — don’t remember — aw — really.” 

“Well,” continued Church, paying no atten- 
tion to such trivial interruptions. “I am deter- 
mined to conquer my dread of going on the water, 
and I want to accompany you on this excursion ; 
but not in my own character, mind you.” 

“And in whose do you expect to go?” Guion 
asked, rather startled by this new idea. 

“ I hope to go with you as Monsieur de Jou- 
ville, and I can assume the character with little or 
no difficulty, if you two are willing to assist me in 
carrying it out.” 

“And — aw — not invite the — aw — real man?” 
Philip inquired, not quite understanding matters. 

“ Of course not,” said John, impatiently 
“ What would be the use of my disguise if the 
man himself was invited ?” 

“ How will Gertrude be impressed ?” asked 
Harry Guion. 

“ Suppose she — aw — gets mad ?” suggested my 
lord. 

“ I’ve thought of it all, boys, but I am willing 
to take the consequences.- I know she is not 
anxious for us to go, so she can have a good flirta- 
tion with the real widower, and she deserves to be 
found out in such wickedness.” 

“You don’t do Miss Gertrude justice,” said 
Guion. “ I am sure she has no intention of flirting, 


118 


A ROMANCE OF 


and never lias since her engagement, I know. 
Your jealousy blinds you, John, and I can’t say I 
like the plan ; it’s rather an underhand piece of 
work, isn’t it ?” 

“ Underhand or not, it will determine pretty 
accurately the depth of Gertrude’s affection for me, 
and I am resolved to personate Mr. de Jouville.” 

“ But suppose she breaks the engagement, what 
then ?” 

“You do it against my advice, John.” 

“Aw ! — don’t do it. Church.” 

“I’m sorry you are both so set against my 
plan ; but I think I know best, and you can help 
me ; so put your scruples in your pockets and 
listen to me,” and John rapidly sketched the way 
each must act to deceive the party, and for Guion 
not to tell his wife. 

“ I won’t have any trouble about the French- 
man ; he has lived in this country so long that he 
,is an American in every respect, and by some 
strange chance no one has seen him on the island 
but two or three men, and they are not invited, I 
find. I’ll have to wear a gray wig and beard, and 
blue glasses,” he went on, “ to hide my eyes. Ger- 
trude would know them among a thousand exactly 
the same color. Holden, I’ll come aboard at Clif- 
ton ; and don’t either you fellows betray me, and. 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


119 


remember, I depend upon you to assist me in my 
disguise. Come, shake hands upon it,” and John 
held out a hand to each, which was cordially 
grasped ; but Guion said : 

‘‘ Be careful, old man ; don’t trifle with such a 
true heart as Gertrude’s.” 

Even Holden cautioned : “ Don’t — aw — run the 
thing — aw — into the ground.” 

“ I’ll promise to be as careful as either of you 
desire,” was the response, “ and be sure, Harry, not 
to hint the plan to Nettie ; she will tell Gertrude.” 

Oh ! I won’t ; but come, Phil, it’s eleven 
o’clock, and there’s a little wife watching for me 
at home, and beginning to worry as it grows late, 
I know. Ah ! my boy, you hav’n’t a wife to go 
home to ; but get one, they are great comforts ! 
Good-night,” and Guion walked briskly off to his 
home, merrily whistling like a gay -hearted school- 
boy. 


130 


A JiOMAJYG^^ OF 


CHAPTER III. 

“We left behind the painted buoy 
That tosses at the harbor-mouth ; 

And madly danced our hearts with joy, 

As fast we fleeted to the south : 

How fresh 'syas every sight and sound 
On open main or winding shore ! 

We knew the merry world was round, 

And we might sail forever more.” 

One bright, beautiful morning in JuUe, a gay 
party of ladies and gentlemen were standing on 
the New Brighton dock, waiting for a graceful 
yacht that was tacking in the stream to come to 
the pier for them. 

They made a very pretty group, all being 
dressed in nobby yachting suits, dark blue or gray, 
lightened with ribbons of bright hues at the 
throat, and the wide-brimmed, sensible hats of the 
ladies trimmed with some jaunty feather or gay 
bunch of flowers. Every one was talking, it being 
the most natural way to give vent to the high 
spirits which all possessed, and which was height- 
ened by the exhilarating air and the prospect of 
the pleasure before them. Some of the party made 
themselves comfortable while they waited, by 
spreading the numerous shawls and wraps belong- 


A FACHTIA^a FAJirr. 


121 


ing to them, that lay around, on a pile of lumber, 
and calmly awaited the arrival of the yacht. 

But the majority felt too full of life and energy 
to sit down, and stood, intently watching the vari- 
ous craft to be seen on all sides, and commenting 
upon the odd device floating from the masthead of 
the “Pirate,” of a black flag, with a skull and 
cross-bones of the most startling whiteness upon 
it. 

“It’s just like Holden,” a tall, fair-haired man 
was saying, as the yacht swung around, and the 
flag floated out upon the breeze ; “ if he has any- 
thing like anyone else he don’t care a cent for it, 
and it’s my opinion that he is the only man who 
ever thought of having such a grim device on a 
flag attached to a pleasure boat. If I hadn’t made 
up my mind to have a good time it would destroy 
all the pleasure of the trip.” 

“ That’s a triumph of mind over matter, Mr. 
Guion,” said a bright, pretty blonde, w^ho was 
standing alone, impatiently tapping the boards of 
the dock with her neatly booted foot, that her 
short yachting dress showed so plainly. 

“ Why, Miss Gertrude, where is Mr. Church ? 
I thought,” with a most mischievous glance, “ he 
hardly allowed you out of his sight,” exclaimed 
Mr. Guion, advancing towards the lady addressed. 

“Lovers cannot always be choosers,” she re- 


123 


A ROMANCE OF 


turned. “John is not to accompany us, as you 
probably know, and, as his partner is away, was 
unable to come to bid us good bye, his presence at 
the office being a necessity. And, really, Mr. 
Guion, I feel like thanking you for coming to talk 
to me, for I was beginning to think that an engaged 
girl is the loneliest creature in existence when her 
own particular gentleman is out of call.” 

As Miss Gertrude Wood stands conversing in 
her own pretty, animated manner, we will glance 
at her and some of the other members of the party. 

She is a medium-sized blonde with brown eyes, 
generally brimming over with fun, for her sense 
of the ludicrous is very keen, and the prettiest 
complexion ever seen ; one is apt to forget her 
nose is not perfect in shape, and her mouth a trifle 
large, when she gives them a glance from her eyes, 
and flashes a smile, revealing beautiful teeth. 

•She is not pretty when her face is analyzed, but 
the whole is fascinating, and Miss Gertrude has 
never lacked for admirers since she was old enough 
to talk. 

Mrs. Guion, who has been prevailed upon to 
chaperone the party, is a tall, slight, and beautiful 
woman, a perfect brunette, and possessing great 
magnetic power with which she wins all hearts, 
and is ever followed by a flock of men who pro- 
nounce her irresistible, and if she was not so 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


123 


charming with her own sex, the heart-burning of 
the women of whom she unconsciously makes wall- 
flowers would be terrible ; as it is, she must use all 
her arts to combat the foes around her, who are 
the harder to flght as they do not battle openly, 
but make unexpected attacks on the unconscious 
enemy. She is one of those women who have 
faultless taste in dress ; whatever she wears is ex- 
actly the right thing, whether the fashion or not, 
and as she stands in the bright sunlight, in her gray 
and scarlet suit, and wide-brimmed hat, looped on 
one side with natural scarlet roses, — “ They won’t 
last any time,” she whispered to Helen Moss, who 
stands beside her, “ but they are pretty, and I 
have the artificial bunch in my pocket !” — she 
is a picture. 

Helen, whom everybody loves and pets, is a 
petite brunette with the blackest of black eyes, 
which are now dancing with mirth, as Philip Hol- 
den, who is evidently much smitten, remarks as he 
watches his yacht. 

“If — aw — they would only — aw — pull the jib 
aw — sheet the — aw — boom might fall down.” 

“ Did you ever manage a yacht, Mr. Holden ?” 
Helen asked. 

“ No,” he replied, rather reluctantly, “ but — aw 
— have seen it — aw — done, but — aw — don’t think 


124 


A BOMAWGB OF 


— aw — could, it — aw — requires brains, you — aw — 
see.” 

“Yes, I see,” she answered with thinly vailed 
sarcasm. 

“ My dear Gertrude,” she whispers ; as the 
groups break up when the “ Pirate ” is at last fast to 
the dock and the people are embarking, “ I never 
can stand him ; he surpasses Lord Dundreary in 
every respect. There does not seem to be any 
thing to him but his money : but he may improve 
on acquaintance,” she added, doubtfully, remem- 
bering his brilliant remarks. 

“ If he would not drawl so one could manage 
him better, but he is so slow I feel like urging him 
on with a pin,”* replied her friend, energetically. 
“ But where do you suppose is my widower ? 
John away, no widower in sight, I am indeed a 
forsaken damsel !” 

“Miss Moss,” said my lord, approaching her, 
“ can I — aw — assist you to — aw — embark ?” 

“ Thanks,” she responded, as he carefully con- 
ducted her over the plank ; “ one hardly requires 
assistance, everything is so nicely arranged for our 
comfort.” 

But Philip could not answer ; he evidently 
wanted to say something, and could scarcely w’ait 
until Helen had finished speaking, and as she 
ceased, immediately said : 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


125 


“ Let me — aw — extend a warm — aw — welcome 
to my — aw — aw ” 

“Ancestral halls,” suggested Jack Wood. 

“Aw — thank you, Jack. Ancestral halls — aw 
— Miss Moss ; may you — aw — aw — aw — never 
quit them,” he ended, desperately. 

“I think, Holden,” said Mr. Guion, “your 
forte is speech-making : you should have studied 
law or have been a clergyman ; you could have 
then improved every opportunity.” 

“They used to say the — aw — same at — aw — 
college,” he answered, simply. “And — aw — try 
never to lose a — aw — chance to — aw — make a 
speeqh.” 

“ Don’t you think it would be a good idea to 
practice in private, Phil?” asked Jack. “You 
might become perfect in time, you know ; but I 
beg of you, for the sake of your friends, to go in 
the woods when you do practice.” 

“ Aw — will think of it,” Holden answered 
good humoredly, as he moved off, “ aw — don’t know 
what — aw — would do if I didn’t have — aw — you 
fellows to suggest plans for my — aw — improve- 
ment.” 

“His good nature counterbalances his non- 
sense,” said Harry Guion ; “ it is fortunate he has 
it, though I do think he is more sensible than we 


126 


A JiOMAJ:^CB OF 


imagine, and may be a man yet ; but not for a 
good while,” he added, with a laugh. 

By this time the “ Pirate ” was well under way, 
sailing along with a “ spanking breeze,” to be very 
nautical indeed, and the party on board were each 
sitting, as best suited them, on the settees or in 
some cosy nook seemingly prepared for tete-a-tetes, 
though probably no such thing was thought of 
when the vessel was built. 

“Mrs. Guion,” hastily said Gertrude Wood, 
“ here comes Mr. Holden, do ask him why Mr. de 
Jouville is not with us. If I can’t have my widower 
I will be forlorn, for every one of the party are in 
couples and I the only odd one among them,” she 
ended, in the most Irish way ever heard. 

“ My Lord Holden,” said the chaperone, with a 
smile, “I understood you were to introduce to us 
the traveled lion none of us have seen, or, in other 
words,” seeing he looked puzzled, “have Mr. de 
Jouville as one of the attractions of this party ?” 

“And so — aw — ^w, Mrs. Guion, but he — aw — 
asked me to stop at Clifton — aw — for him, and 
though — aw — trifle inconvenient — aw — consented, 
and all for — aw — Miss Gertrude,” and he bowed 
in a way that would have rejoiced the heart of 
Lord Chesterfield could he have seen him. 

“ What direction do we take after we have se- 
cured Mr. de Jouville?” asked Helen Moss, as 


A YAo^rma party. 


127 


Holden seated himself beside her, on the top of 
the cabin, which had cushions spread upon it for 
the greater comfort of the party. 

“Aw — don’t know,” answered he, lazily turning 
on his elbow to catch a better glimpse of the pretty 
white throat and delicately tinted cheek ; “ aw — 
where — where do you — aw — want to go ?” 

“ It makes no difference to me ; whatever 
pleases you will be agreeable,” she replied, looking 
at him coquettishly ; “ you are lord of all you sur- 
vey, you know.” 

“Aw — wish I was,” he retorted, with unusual 
quickness, and he had the satisfaction of seeing her 
face crimson under his expressive glance. 

“ There is Clifton,” she said, anxious for a less 
personal conversation ; “ and is not that man on the 
pier the one we are all so desirous of meeting ?” 

Slowly Philip arose from his reclining position, 
and, adjusting his eyeglasses, he took a most leis- 
urely survey of the individual in question, and 
then, turning to Miss Wood, said, with a wave of 
his hand towards the shore : 

“ Behold, the — aw — conquering widower comes ! 
— aw congratulate you. Miss Gertrude !” 


128 


A JiOMAJVCB OF 


CHAPTER TV. 

“ Pupil. — ^Is love limited by disguises ? 

“Philosopher. — No ! It seems to me that love 
looks beyond all disguises, even the disguise of mortal 
beauty seeking for God himself, as ‘ God is love.’ 
And, if will is a power of love, — as it most likely is, 
— then will is free in being only limited by what it loves.'’"' 

As the yacht neared the pier, the people on 
board grouped together to inspect the solitary in- 
dividual standing there, valise in hand, looking as 
uncomfortably conscious under the scrutiny of a 
dozen eyes as a man can, who has any self-posses- 
sion at all. 

Whispered comments passed between the ladies, 
as complimentary as such things usually are, and in 
this case, funny enough to cause many a subdued 
laugh. 

The person in question was not a very hand- 
some-looking man, and resembled a Yankee school- 
master much more than the traveled Frenchman 
he was supposed to be. He had a very bushy head 
of curly hair, iron-gray in color, a full beard the 
same shade, and was very dark-complexioned ; but 
no one could distinguish the color of his eyes, as 
they were hidden by a good sized pair of blue 
spectacles. 


A YAGHTim PARTY. 


129 


He was attired in a full suit of black broad- 
cloth, now covered by a long, dark-graj^ duster, 
which waved in the breeze in a most ridiculous 
way, and a high hat also of dark-gray, but almost 
covered by a mourning-band. Black kid gloves 
adorned his hands, and altogether he looked more 
as though he was going to the funeral of some near 
and dear relative than on a pleasure-trip. 

“ I devoutly hope,” whispered Mrs. Guion to 
Helen, ‘‘that his conversation will not be as 
solemn as his appearance.* I cannot imagine how 
the wind dare take the liberty of blowing his 
duster ; no human creature would venture to ap- 
proach him in any familiar way, I am sure.” 

As the lines of the yacht were made fast to the 
dock, Mr. Holden sprang upon the pier, and grasp- 
ing the stranger’s hand, exclaimed : “ ’Pon my 
honor, de Jouville, I am glad to see you.” 

“ Why, where is his fascinating drawl ?” said 
Helen. 

“ Forgot it,” replied Jack Wood ; “ he’ll recol- 
lect it all too soon, though.” 

“ I fear it has caused some delay, Mr. Holden,” 
said Mr. de Jouville, formally, “having to stop 
for me when you were sailing along so rapidly in 
this splendid breeze.” 

When the stranger commenced to speak, Ger- 
trude Wood started, and a puzzled look came into 
9 


130 


A BOMAJVCB OF 


her eyes ; as he proceeded in his speech she leaned 
over the chaperone and said, in a low voice, 

“Nettie Guion, did you ever hear a voice more 
like John’s? If our solemn-looking widower is 
anything like my lover, I will have an easy time 
to captivate him.” 

By this time Philip and his guest were on 
deck, and the introductions began. Mrs. Guion 
being the first to whom he was presented, and 
Gertrude, who had been watching him intently, 
with a strong look of conviction dawning on her 
face, the last. 

“ I am sure,” she soliloquized, when Mr. de 
Jouville had gone below to don his yachting cos- 
tume, as she leaned over the railing, “ I am positive 
that that newcomer is John, and I can’t imagine 
why I should think ^o ; common sense forbids, and 
every circumstance is against that idea, still I have 
it, and I cannot get rid of it. Some one says love 
sees through all disguises, and I am sure it does in 
this case. I know every tone of his dear old voice 
too well for him to disguise it, and his walk betrays 
him immediately ; but I may be mistaken, though 
I don’t believe I am, so will keep my suspicions to 
myself. I would like to know if it is really John, 
how he ever happened to assume such a disguise, 
and how he managed to control his fear of the 
water. Well, I shall watch him, and be even with 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


131 


him, whatever his game may be ; but if it is to 
keep guard over me, and prevent me from flirting, 
I shall lead him a pretty dance. Such a thing is 
outrageous ! Still, I would like to know why he 
came.” 

Here Helen’s voice interrupted her meditations 
as she approached with the host. 

“ At your old habit of dreaming, Gertrude, or 
admiring the scenery ? I am so much obliged to 
you and my lord, here,” she continued, not waiting 
for an answer to her question, “ for inviting me on 
what promises to be the pleasantest trip of my life. 
Don’t,” turning to her escort, who was gazing 
upon her, “don’t disappoint my high anticipations, 
sir.” 

“ Aw — would never let a current — aw — disturb 
the even ripple of your — aw — life,” he responded, 
tenderly. 

“ I imagine you will And it difficult to control 
the winds and waves of life that will break over 
me,” she answered, laughingly. “ When you know 
me better you will find I am always in a squall, or 
looking for breakers ahead.” 

“ Don’t disparage yourself, my dear,” said Miss 
Wood, in a grandmotherly tone, “ but look at the 
exquisite scenery on all sides.” 

The yacht was passing through the Narrows as 
she spoke, the beautiful green hills of Staten Island 


133 


A JiOMAmJS; OF 


on one side, with handsome villas nestling amongst 
the green trees, but flashing out bits of color 
against the foliage, in the shape of the loveliest 
June roses, or bright beds of gay colored leaves, on 
smoothly shaven lawns. 

Fort Wadsworth, with its granite batteries and 
green embankments, looked too peaceful and pretty 
to be dangerous, while the sunlight glanced into 
each nook and crevice of the deserted old Fort 
Lafayette, doing its best to encourage tiny green 
plants to grow and cover the desolateness. 

“ Summer besieged it on every side, 

But the churlish stones her assaults defied.” 

On the other side lay the Long Island shore, 
too far distant to distinguish anything clearly, but 
Fort Hamilton, which looked, as it is, a silent 
power, requiring but a muttering of war to be 
a powerful and active foe. Away in the distance 
before them stretched the beautiful blue water, 
dotted with vessels, and each wave and ripple 
sparkling like countless diamonds under the gay 
kiss of the sun. 

Every one felt the charm of the scene, and 
conversation was huwshed for' the time as all 
watched the swiftly receding shores, heard the mur- 
muring of the waves against the bow, and felt the 
cool delicious breeze in their faces. 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


133 


“ And what is so rare as a day in June ? 

Then, if ever come perfect days 

quoted Gertrude softly, more to herself than to her 
companions. 

“ ’Tis as easy now for the heart to be true 
As for the grass to be green, and the skies to be blue ; 
’Tis the natural way of living.” 

continued Mr. de Jouville, under his breath, glanc- 
ing at her. “That is just like John,” she thought, 
but calmly lifted her eyes, which revealed no sus- 
picious thoughts. 

“ My favorite poem,” she said. “ I am glad to 
find one who appreciates it ; I think Lowell put 
the cry of many a soul into words when he wrote 
of a June day. Do you know it all ?” 

“No,” he replied. “I think. Miss Wood, you 
would be charmed with some of our French poets.” 

“ I have enjoyed a few,” was the answer ; “ your 
language has ever been a favorite study with me. 
Mr. de Jouville,! hope during our cruise to air my 
knowledge by talking in it with you.” 

As she spoke, she thought, “I think I have 
him now ; for John can’t speak one word of 
French, though he is such a good German scholar.” 

He responded hesitatingly, confirming her sus- 
picions : “ I — I never speak French except to my 
children, though I would like to break my rule for 


134 


A ROMANCE OF 


you, Miss Wood, if it were not almost a principle. 
But come, all are going down to lunch ; will you 
accept of my arm 

“ It seems almost wicked to descend to a lunch- 
table when it is so lovely on deck,” said Gertrude, 
as they entered the cabin. 

Mrs. Guion, to say the least, would have her 
hands full if she attempted to manage the party 
she chaperoned ; for each member, without intend- 
ing to be selfish, was determined to carry out the 
object that interested him or her the most, regard- 
less of consequences, and generally were too much 
absorbed with their own ideas to be very good com- 
pany for people like Mr. and Mrs. Guion, who were 
not deeply in love, or who were not carrying on 
a desperate flirtation. 

Fortunately for the comfort of all concerned, 
Mrs. Guion could accommodate herself to circum- 
stances, and she was also wise enough to provide 
herself with books, for, as she told her husband 
when he laughed at her pile of carefully-selected 
volumes ; “ There are times on an excursion of this 
sort when the whole party are so tired of one an- 
other that any diversion is acceptable, and I will be 
called upon for intellectual amusement sooner than 
you imagine.” 

If you hadn’t been a wise woman I never 
would have married you,” he had replied, with a 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


• 135 


laugh and a kiss on her forehead ; “ I appreciate 
your kindness in taking such a heedless fellow as 
I am, more and more every day.” 

That something was not quite as it should be 
was evident to the chaperone, even at this early 
date, and she was puzzled, for everyone seemed to 
be playing at cross purposes, and though they had 
not been twenty-four hours together, there was an 
undercurrent of feeling which threatened to break 
all bounds before the voyage was over. 

“ What is there wrong V” she had already asked 
» herself many times. “ My lord is no brighter than 
usual, and is so much taken with Helen that he has 
eyes for no one else ; and she is enough of a co- 
quette to flirt with a scarecrow if nothing better 
offers, and she seems to be perfectly contented with 
her present admirer. I trust it is nothing more 
than a flirtation. 

“Gertrude, my dear, unselfish girl, is worried 
or annoyed, I am sure ; it’s the only way I can ac- 
count for her unequal manner — one moment bright, 
the next as quiet as a mouse. I shouldn’t- wonder 
but she was fretting for John, not finding the wid- 
ower quhe as her fancy pictured him ; and, I must 
say, he is an odd one in our delightful little party, 
with his solemn face, his black clothes, and his talk 
about dear Amalie and the seven olive-branches he 
neglected so long, only he don’t think he neglected 


18 (> • 


A HOMAJVOIJ OF 


them. It’s my opinion, which I wouldn’t breathe, 
even to Harry, that he is after Gertrude’s money, 
and I intend to watch him carefully ; John’s too 
good a fellow to be jilted, and Gertrude too lovely 
a woman to waste her sweetness on that French- 
man’s flock of children.” 

“Nettie,” called her husband, “I have been 
watching you for ten minutes, and you have never 
moved from that one position of leaning over the 
railing and looking into the cool, dark depths be- 
low, to be poetical. If you contemplate shuffling 
off this mortal coil in it, please bid me an affec- 
tionate farewell, and tell me not to look ; it might, 
mind you, I don’t say it would, but it might make 
me feel badly for an hour or so, and it isn’t policy 
for a woman to make a man uncomfortable.” 

“Ah ! Guion,” exclaimed Mr. de Jouville, in a 
most solemn tone of rebuke, “don’t, don’t speak 
so carelessly of your dear wife’s decease ; you 
know not the pangs of grief which rend the heart 
when the beloved form lies stiff and cold, and in 
this case, dripping, if she really does think of 
drowning herself.” 

“ No fear, sir,” said Nettie, gaily, as she came 
towards the group, “ I won’t die until I can help 
it ; this boy,” placing her hand on her husband’s 
shoulder, “would be too blithe a widower — would 
enjoy his liberty too much, I fear.” 


A rACB-Tn\rG party. 


137 


“Would — aw — probably copy you,” said Philip 
to Mr. de Jouville, from his favorite position at 
Helen’s feet, where he would lie and watch the 
pretty face as it? bent over some light work, or was 
lifted to make some laughing remark. “ You are 
the — aw — most gay and festive widower — aw — 
ever saw,” continued he ; “aw — children keep a 
man young — aw — have heard. Aw — you would 
have to — aw — adopt them, Guion ; — aw-®— perhaps 
de Jouville might divide with — aw — you.” 

“Really, Mr. Holden,” said Gertrude, indig- 
nantly, “ you seem to forget that others beside 
yourself have feelings. Mr. de Jouville, suppose 
we go over to that shady nook, and you can show 
me that miniature you spoke of this morning,” and 
bestowing a heavenly smile on the widower, and a 
contemptuous look on the reclining figure of the 
unfortunate Holden, she walked toward the other 
end of the vessel, where she comfortably seated 
herself, with her cavalier close beside her. 

“ Aw — did — aw — say anything ?” inquired 
Philip. “Aw — often talk, but — aw — was never 
known to — aw — say anything !” 

“Never mind,” said naughty flirt Helen, lean- 
ing over, and smiling into his eyes. “ I am satis- 
fied ; does that content my lord ?” 

“Aw — would never want to — aw — be a wid- 


138 


A HOlfAJVCB OF 


ower,” he answered, slowly ; “ aw — am now in — 
aw — paradise.” 

“ I have a faint impression it is time Nettie and 
I left, isn’t it ?” said Guion, his eyes dancing with 
merriment, but with a perfectly grave face. 

“ No, don’t,” said Helen, decidedly ; then lean- 
ing over to Mrs. Guion, she whispered, “ I won’t 
answer for the consequences, and it’s so absurd I 
can scarcely control my face. Nettie, do you 
really suppose be knows enough to go in when it 
rains ? I doubt it, though I am very willing to 
believe he is brighter than he appears.” 


CHAPTER V. 

“ The ocean waves may roll, 

And the stormy winds may blow, 

While we poor sailors go skipping through the tops. 
And the land-lubbers lie down below, below, below. 
And the land-lubbers be down below.” 

College Song. 

Gerteijde Wood’s emotions were varied as 
she walked aw^ay from her friends. Her impulse 
was to get into some quiet corner alone, and laugh 
at the position affairs were taking, when she en- 
listed herself as champion for the pseudo-widower, 
when she knew so well that he w^as only attempting 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


139 


to play upon her feelings, and was so very sure 
that there was some object to be gained by him, 
but what she could not discover.; and with it all 
she is intensely annoyed, that her every movement 
should be watched and commented upon by the 
man whom, she thought, should trust her so en- 
tirely and love her so devotedly that all she did 
should seem right in his eyes. 

“ It is said love is blind,” she thought, angrily, 
“but it isn’t in this case, and does not intend to 
be blinded. Well, I am more determined every 
hour to make him suffer, and cure him forever, if 
such a thing is possible, of this unreasoning jeal- 
ousy. The annoyance, I suspect, is a punishment 
for my naughty wish to have a flirtation with the 
real widower, and, as I can’t, I will practise on 
foolish old John, when he is dressed in a disguise 
and can’t help himself. I really think I will have 
the best of the game after all, and make him thor- 
oughly uncomfortable.” 

“ Isn’t it provoking,” she said, turning to Mr. 
de Jouville, “ that we are becalmed in this man- 
ner ? Now, I like to rush through the water with 
all the canvas spread that the vessel is capable of 
carrying, and have the spray dashing over the 
deck. Then I feel so exhilarated that nothing is 
too much for me to attempt ; well, in a word, a 
life on the ocean wave would just suit me.” 


140 


A ROMANCE OF 


“ I can’t say it would me,” he replied, looking 
nervously over the water, which lay like a mirror 
all around. “ I am not very fond of sailing, and 
having just come across the ocean, I have had 
almost enough.” 

“ You do not, then, enjoy a storm or gale ?” 
asked Gertrude, from nothing but pure malice. 

“ Hardly ; and confidentially. Miss W ood, had 
it not been for the pleasure of meeting a certain 
lady, well known to me by reputation,” with a 
most gallant glance, “ I should not be here, but 
now, if it will only not blow great guns, I will 
never regret my coming.” 

• “ For your sake I hope it won’t,” she answered, 
sweetly ; “ but as our cruise is to last three weeks, 
we will probably have at least one hard gale, if 
not more ; and then,” mischievously, “ what will 
you do ?” 

“ I haven’t the least idea,” he said, help- 
lessly. 

“ It’s very strange, isn’t it, that you should be 
so timid on the water,” she continued. “ I never 
knew but one man who felt the same, and that is 
my friend, Mr. Church,” with a sly glance at her 
companion, “ and he, though urged, could not con- 
quer his fear of the water enough to accompany 
us on this excursion. I think you deserve much 
credit, Mr. de Jouville, for obtaining such com- 


A TAGHTING PARTY. 


141 


mand of your timidity, if it is as great as you 
infer.” 

“ Did I not promise you,” he asked, anxious to 
change the subject, perhaps thinking his feelings 
and Mr. Church’s were too much alike to bear dis- 
cussion ; “ did I not promise to show you the 
tinted photograph of my beloved wife, who has 
gone before me to the better land. See,” handing 
Gertrude the oval-shaped case, ‘‘ I think you re- 
semble her to a degree, and perhaps that is one 
reason I felt drawn towards you from the first.” 

“ Indeed ! How flattered I should feel,” said 
Gertrude, as she gravely inspected the dark, sallow 
face, and, not seeing much resemblance, “ I think,” 
she continued dryly, after a few moments’ silence, 
“ that the likeness to me begins and ends in our 
both having eyes, a nose, and a mouth, and our 
both thinking you are one man in a thousand,” 
and she raised her beautiful eyes to his in a way 
that almost distracted John Church. 

As soon as his emotions were subdued to a 
proper degree, Mr. de Jouville resumed the con- 
versation, unconscious that he had afforded his 
companion much amusement by the different ex- 
pressions that had flitted across as much of his 
face as was visible between his heavy whiskers 
and immense spectacles. 

“ You never knew my dear, dear Amalie, I think 


142 


A OF 


you said. Oh ! that you had, and appreciated her 
manifold virtues ; so loving, so unselfish. I really 
can’t see to this day, how she could make up her 
mind to die and leave me lamenting, with seven chil- 
dren on my hands to train and educate.” 

‘‘ And you have been, dear, a most devoted 
father,” murmured Miss Wood, “ a model for any 
man to follow after.” 

‘‘I have tried, dear Miss Gertrude, I have 
tried,” he responded, fervently, “ but it is hard to 
understand the wants and wishes of seven little 
mortals, when their beloved mother is beyond the 
stars. Ah ! my lot has been hard since Amalie’s 
death, and the poor babes, left to nurses, for I, 
Miss Wood, cannot take charge of them, are grow- 
ing up as wild as young colts. If I could only 
hope to win the love of some true-hearted woman, 
who would be willing to take me and my seven 
incumbrances for better or for worse ! But alas ! 
who would care to train a family of children, just 
for love of their unfortunate father,” and Mr. de 
Jouville ended his speech with a furtive wiping of 
his tear-dimmed eyes, and a sob that sounded not 
unlike a suppressed laugh. 

“Indeed, Mr. de Jouville,” replied Gertrude, 
earnestly, “ you place too low an estimate upon 
yourself. Many a girl would think you all to be 
desired, and regard it as an inestimable privilege 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


143 


to take the charge of your seven darling children. 
Believe me, every true woman feels for you, and 
the charge you are intrusted with. May you find 
some one who will be the right woman in the right 
place, and train your lovely children to noble man- 
hood and gracious womanhood ; comforts to you 
and credits to the high-born name they bear and 
Gertrude raised her hand in a gesture that was 
truly majestic. 

The gentleman beside her gazed long at her 
animated face, and murmured : 

“ Oh ! that I could win her for mine own,” but 
not in so low a tone but that her quick ears caught 
the sentence, and her head drooped while the 
crimson tide flooded cheek and brow. At this in- 
tensely interesting moment a sudden and unex- 
pected puff of wind caught the ends of the vail 
twisted about Gertrude’s hat, and nearly pulled it 
off of her head. 

“ Wind !” she exclaimed joyfully ; “ isn’t that 
delightful ? This calm might have proved tedious.” 

“I — I — prefer the calm,” said the widower, 
nervously, “ do you think it will amount to much, 
captain ?” as the man came forward to take the 
wheel. 

“ A right smart little blow, sir, but nothing to 
be afeared of, bless your heart.” 

“ Don’t let us sit so near the edge, we might 


144 


A ROMANCE OF 


go over, you know, if the yacht tipped,” and 
anxiously, “ hadn’t we better go down in the cabin, 
Miss Wood ?” 

“ No, indeed, Mr. de Jouville. Wh}^ ! this is glo- 
rious !” and Gertrude stood up watching the white 
sails swell, with the wind, and the sharp bow of 
the “ Pirate ” cut through the water, leaving a 
broad track of foam far in the rear. 

“ Really, Miss Gertrude, it would make me 
much more comfortable if you would sit down, 
and much happier,” he whispered, “ to have you so 
near me ; but oh ! what a dreadful lurch. I very 
much fear I must go below, but I never can walk to 
the cabin door. Oh ! how this miserable vessel 
jDitches and rolls! We’ll all be overboard in a 
minute. Oh ! it is terrible !” and he groaned loud 
and deep, pale with fear. 

“ Allow me to assist your feeble and tottering 
steps to the door of your state-room,” said Ger- 
trude, sarcastically, “ it must be dreadful to be a 
prey to such fears.” 

As Miss Wood ascended the cabin stairs after 
leaving her unnautical adorer in safety below, she 
was received by a volley of fun from each one of 
the party she had quitted an hour or two before in 
the vain hope of making Philip Holden conscious 
he had made a terrible mal d propos remark ; we 
have seen how well she succeeded. 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


145 


“ Miss Gertrude,” said Mr. Giiion, “ has con- 
sented to shed the beaming light of her- counte- 
nance upon us once more. I, for one, am thankful 
to this delightful breeze for sending our timid 
widower down stairs.” 

“Harry, cease your nonsense,” cried his wife, 
“ we should be thankful to this dear girl,” draw- 
ing her down beside her, for carrying him off, 
with his long face and his constant mention of 
‘ dear Amelie,’ or, ‘ my beloved wife.’ What sur- 
prises me is that Gertrude can stand it.” 

“ Oh ! a woman can endure a vast deal, I have 
found out by experience,” exclaimed Helen, in a 
tone that convulsed all her hearers but Philip. 

“Your — aw — life should be — aw — guarded 
from every thorn,” he whispered, but unfortu- 
nately in such an audible tone that every one heard 
and laughed. 

“ It’s not thorns that trouble me, Mr. Holden, 
but too much softness,” said the naughty girl, 
laughing heartily at his puzzled face. 

“ Where’s the — aw — point ?” he asked, present- 
ly, of the company in general. 

“ There being no thorn, of course there is no 
point,” said Jack Wood. “ Phil, the ladies will 
beat you at repartee, so take my advice and keep 
out of it.” 


146 


A JiOMAJVa^^ OF 


“ Aw — never was — aw — ^beaten yet,” answered 
Self-Conceit, confidently. 

“Well !” exclaimed Gertrude Wood, emphati- 
cally, after a moment’s pause, “ I am very glad 
that John did not come with us, for if he had, and 
made an exhibition of his absurd timidity, I would 
have been tempted never to speak to him again. 
It seems to me so weak for a man to be afraid of 
anything !” 

“ Don’t be too hard on him, Gertrude,” said 
the chaperone ; “ it is not his fault, poor fellow, 
and whatever you do,” she added, in a low tone, 
“ don’t jilt him for this Mr. de Jouville. I think 
him horrible.” 

“ I shall not, Nettie,” she answered, in the same 
tone ; “ but I could bring up those seven children 
so beautifully.” 

As Gertrude was speaking, she had removed 
her fan chatelaine from her belt, and toyed with 
the little ornament at the top, representing a highly 
polished silver horse-shoe, studded with tiny gold 
nails. When she ceased speaking a silence fell 
upon all the company, the motion of the vessel and 
the breeze composed them insensibly, and a per- 
fect hush reigned on deck. Suddenly, to the dis- 
gust of all, Philip Holden spoke. 

“ Aw — Miss Wood do you — aw — wear a horse- 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


147 


shoe because — aw — you are so so fond of — aw — 
horses 

“ Holden,” exclaimed Guion indignantly, “ I 
was just dropping to sleep with my head in Net- 
tie’s lap for a pillow. What under the sun ever 
made you ask that question ?” 

“ Aw — thought I would — aw — like to know,” 
was the response. 

“ It’s an unfortunate taste of Gertrude’s,” said 
Jack, gravely, “ inherited from father. You know, 
once, Phil, he was one of the greatest jockeys in 
the United States.” 

“No — aw — really,” said Philip, accepting it 
all as truth. “Aw — do you ever ride. Miss Ger- 
trude ?” 

“She wanted to join a circus, but John 
wouldn’t allow it,” answered Jack. 

“ Remarkable — aw — circumstance,” • remarked 
Holden, meditatively. “ Jump — aw — through a 
hoop — aw — suppose, ride bare back, and — aw — 
wear spangles. Miss Gertrude? Aw — would cer- 
tainly have — aw — purchased a season ticket for 
— aw — myself and Miss Moss,” he added, in the 
simplicity of his heart, desiring to please. 

“ Really, Mr. Holden,” Gertrude answered, sar- 
castically, “ had I known you were so fond of that 
intellectual entertainment, I would have learned 
the art, notwithstanding the displeasure of Mr. 


148 


A ROMANCE OF 


Church. Surely your lordship’s tastes are of more 
importance.” 

Philip dimly perceived all was not right, and 
was willing to change the subject, wondering in 
his own peculiar fashion as the others chattered on, 
why it was Miss Gertrude was so sharp with him ; 
he hadn’t said anything that he knew of, or per- 
haps he had said something he should not, and she 
had resented it ; anyway, the poor fellow thought, 
my beautiful Helen is always kind, and never makes 
me think I am endured for my wealth alone. 

His thoughts went on in much the same strain 
for some time, but, proving too much for him, he 
fell asleep, and, when he awoke, he found himself 
alone, under the stars, while from the brilliantly- 
lighted cabin came the sound of merry laughter 
and light talk, mingled with the rattle of the dishes 
on the dinner-table, as the “ Pirate ” was tossed 
to and fro on the waves of the summer-sea. 

Lying still for a moment, he listened to the 
murmur of the waters, and watched the moon rise 
slowly over the hills that lay like a dark back- 
ground to the glimmering water, and saw it touch 
the sails of the fishing-smacks lying in the dis- 
tance, and coming nearer illumine each sail and 
rope of the yacht until it looked like some fairy- 
craft, only waiting for a word to vanish from the 
scene. 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


149 


The quiet beauty of the night impressed Philip 
wonderfully, and he allowed the minutes to slip by 
uncounted, while he dreamed of a happy day in the 
future, when he should ask Helen to take him with 
all his imperfections on his head ; but there’s the 
money to balance them, he mused, and I’m always 
more clever when with her : well. I’ll ask, and if 
she don’t accept. I’ll have Mother do it ; she can’t 
refuse that appeal, I am sure. 

At this moment, Helen’s voice was heard as she 
paused at the foot of the stairs that led upon deck. 
“ What a splendid night ! too lovely to remain 
under cover. As soon as I have gratified your re- 
quest for some music, I am going on deck to see if 
my lord is still sweetly slumbering.” 

He heard her open the pretty little cottage 
piano on one side of the saloon, decline the prof- 
fered services of Jack Wood to turn her music, 
and in a moment she began with the inspiriting 
old song of “ Bonnie Dundee,” giving it, with her 
keen powers of expression, and the command she 
possessed of her magnificent contralto voice, a new 
meaning, and almost taking her small audience 
back to the fighting-days of our ancestors, while 
every pulse thrilled as the gay girl let her voice 
ring out in the bravo old chorus : 

“Como, fill up my cup ; come, fill up my can ; 

Come, saddle my horses and call out my men ; 


150 


A ROMANCE OF 


Unhook the Westport, and let us gae free, 

For it’s up wi’ the bonnets o’ Bonnie Dundee.” 

It brought Philip to his feet, and, forgetting 
his laziness and drawl, he sprang down the stairs, 
and exclaimed, as she finished the song : 

“It makes one wish to be a cavalier, and win 
his spurs in a hard fight ! Miss Helen, I thank 
you.” 


CHAPTER VI. 

“ O, purblind race of miserable men. 

How many among us at this very hour 
Do forge a life-long trouble for ourselves. 

By taking true for false, or false for true. 

Here, through the feeble twilight of this world, 
Groping, how many, until we pass and reach 
That other, where we see as we are seen I” 

— Tennyson. 

The time drifted on very much as it did in the 
first days, until they had been afloat over a w^ek, 
sailing hither and thither, as it best suited them, 
occasionally landing for supplies at some quiet sea- 
shore village, when all who cared to do so landed, 
and generally astonished the unsophisticated na- 
tives with their yachting costumes, while they 
themselves furnished as much, if not more, amuse- 
ment to the visitors, bj^ their queer looks, manners 


A YACIITIJVG PARTY. 


161 


and accent. After one of these excursions, when 
they had remained all day on shore, dining at the 
one tavern of which the village could boast, where 
they found everything scrupulously clean, but de- 
cidedly countrified, especially in the cooking, the 
beefsteaks coming on the table fried, and, to cap 
the climax, they had evidently been fried in the 
same pan as the ham and eggs ; Mrs. Guion had 
exclaimed : 

“ If I lived in the country, away from any city, 
I should die ; it’s my firm belief that the poets 
who have raved over country life have never ex- 
perienced it !” 

“ God made the country and man made the 
town,” said Gertrude, quietly. 

‘‘I don’t care,” Nettie had responded. ‘‘He 
probably did it to allow man to improve on the 
country, and man has, most certainly.” 

“ Don’t argue with her,” said her husband ; “ it’s 
one of her hobbies, and no amount of argument 
can convince her.” 

“Yes, but, Harry, you know ’’she began, 

but her husband hastily interrupted with : 

“Yes, my dear, I know all your hobbies, but 
let’s save them until we are at home, and I can 
run away from them.” 

Mrs. Guion gave up in despair her effort to 
convince her friends that though God did make 




A JiOMAATC^J OF 


the country, the city, that man made, was the most 
delightful to live in. 

They were beginning to tire a little of the 
monotony, and the gentlemen used to an active 
business life, were wishing most heartily, like Mr. 
Micawber, for something to turn up. 

Sailing along the New England coast one 
bright, beautiful day, they saw some islands lying 
in the distance, for which they immediately headed. 
When near enough to distinguish them clearly 
they seemed to be uninhabited, for trees covered 
the land, no houses were to be seen, nor any trace 
of the presence of man was apparent in the shape 
of curling smoke floating on the hazy summer air. 

“ Philip,” called J ack, from the bow of the 
boat where he was standing, glass in hand, regard- 
ing the island, ‘‘ don’t you think that would be 
good Ashing ground ? Let us try, anyway. Some 
fine bass or black fish would be a delightful change 
in the fare.” 

“All right,” Holden answered, “Captain, do 
you — aw — anchor near the islands, and — aw — 
lower the three boats, with — aw — all necessary ap- 
paratus for — aw — fishing.” 

“Two boats are plenty for us, I should think,” 
said Mr. Guion ; “ but few of the ladies will go. I 
know Nettie will not, she abominates fishing.” 

“You — aw — fellows can go in the — aw — two 


A. YACHTING PARTY. 


153 


boats. Miss Moss and I are going in the — aw — 
other.” 

“ Oh, indeed ! ejaculated Guion, with a signifi- 
cant lifting of his eyebrows, “ I’ve been there my- 
self, Philip, my boy, and know that more than two 
is a confounded nuisance ; but don’t put too much 
trust in the women, young man, they are apt to 
slip through a fellow’s fingers just when he thinks 
he has them tightest.” 

“ You — aw — have had experience, Harry, and — 
aw — any advice you can — aw — give me will be — 
appreciated,” replied my lord, in much the tone 
of an ignorant school-boy, anxious to acquire the 
rudiments of an education. 

“ I don’t know much,” Guion responded with a 
laugh, as he arose from his reclining position and 
shook himself into shape, “you know my wife 
manages me, and I don’t dare flirt, even if I wanted 
to do so. But there goes the anchor ; who is ready 
for fishing ?” 

In a moment all was bustle and confusion on 
deck, and it lasted until the boats pushed off 
freighted with all on board save Mrs. Guion, Ger- 
trude and her devoted widower, and the captain. 

Philip and Helen looked as lover-like as possi- 
ble, alone in their graceful boat, and they fairly 
flashed through the water, for Holden rowed well 
if he had no other accomplishment. As they dis- 


154 


A ROMANCE OF 


appeared from sight, the chaperone, locking her 
arm in Gertrude’s, said : 

“I know Mr. de Jouville will excuse us for a 
while. I have something to do that requires as- 
sistance. Perhaps,” she added, with a smile, 
“perhaps he will be thankful fora few minutes 
quiet ; it is a difficult thing to find on a yacht when 
there is a large party aboard.” 

Mr. de Jouville denied the insinuation that he 
preferred his own company to that of the ladies 
most gallantly, but did not seek to detain them as 
they started for the cabin, and as soon as they 
were fairly in their state-room, and the door shut 
loud enough to be heard on deck, he turned his 
back on the captain, and hastily took from his 
face the beard, and from off his eyes the spectacles. 
“ What a relief !” he murmured, “ I never im- 
agined these things could be so intensely hot ; I’ll 
never assume a disguise in warm weather again.” 

He leaned over the side of the “ Pirate,” and 
as he looked deep into the cool water below, 
which w^as so beautifully clear that he could see 
the fishes dart to and fro, his thoughts went on in 
a more sorrowful strain. 

“ I don’t as yet regret coming as I did,” he 
mused, “ for though I have suffered when I found 
Gertrude did not refuse the lover-like attentions I 
have offered ever since I came on board, still, I 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


155 


am glad to find out her real disposition before I 
married her, for had I done so, and thus made her 
a married flirt, and both of us unhappy, I would 
never have forgiyen myself. But now, all 7nust be 
over between us ; I shall never wed a girl who 
has proved so utterly false to^all her promises, as 
she has done these last ten days. But oh ! my 
darling, my darling, it will almost kill me, I have 
loved you so, and dd love you as much as ever I 
did. I can’t, no, I can’t put your dear self out of 
my heart in a day, my little girl. I wouldn’t give 
in to your pretty ways and sweet face, for weeks, 
and when I did, and dared, though with a faint 
heart, to ask for your heart and hand, and when 
the greatest boon life held for me was given, I 
thought myself the most blest of men, and all the 
world was rose-colored. 

‘‘ She always seemed so devoted,” his thoughts 
going back over the first weeks and months of 
their engagement, “ and never a jar has there been 
between us during the whole year we have been 
engaged, though I have always known she was too 
fond of admiration, and now this confounded wid- 
ower has had to come back from France, and 
whilst everyone’s sympathy for his family of chil- 
dren, and Gertrude’s especially, for the girl is 
crazy on that subject, I think. For her Christmas 
I will give her some small orphan to adopt, — but 


156 


A liOMANGE OF 


I can’t, I can’t, — by that time she’ll be the be- 
trothed of that old Frenchman, and I ! She’ll 
never know how it hurt me. I will break the en- 
gagement the last day of this excursion, and 
let her know I know all her baseness and perfidy.” 

Poor John Church ! his feelings were terribly 
hurt. He never imagined for an instant that Ger- 
trude knew him through his disguise, and so, sup- 
posing she thought him the real Mr. de Jouville, 
he could not endure to think of her falseness to 
him, the lover for whom she had professed so 
much affection ; and so, blinded by his own feel- 
ings, he did not see that he was the one who was 
really in fault. 

He was one of those men who, with all their 
unreasoning jealousy, which makes them at times 
nearly insane, are so perfectly true and honest 
themselves, that if the person they are always sus- 
pecting is really untrue, they are wounded to the 
heart, and are very much surprised, though that 
does sound like a paradox. And so it was with 
John. He had often annoyed Gertrude with petty 
jealousy, but he never for a moment imagined she 
could be false to him, and thus the blow came 
heavier from its entire unexpectedness. 

He brooded on, growing more and more melan- 
choly as the various aspects of the case presented 
themselves in turn, until he could endure inactivity 


A T AGUTIN G PARTY. 


157 


no longer, and, donning his beard and spectacles, 
he began to march up and down the deck as 
though he was keeping watch and ward over the 
“ Pirate.” 

“ I have it,” he suddenly exclaimed aloud, and 
then, noticing the curious look with which the 
captain regarded him, he concluded he would keep 
the subject of his meditations to himself. “Yes,” 
he thought, “ I’ll do it ; the very next time we are 
alone I will put my arms about her, and if she 
draws back I will regard the whole thing as an 
idle flirtation ; but if she allows it — Jove ! but 
she won’t ; my darling is too modest for that. I 
suppose, now I have gone so far in my assumed 
character, that I will have to propose. Well, I 
will, and then and there end our betrothal. I 
think I have made rapid love-making during the 
last ten days. Yachting favors such affairs, I 
And ; and my doleful accounts of my dear departed 
Amalie, and those everlasting children, have worked 
upon Gertrude’s tender feelings to a wonderful ex- 
tent. Once or twice when most eloquent upon the 
virtues of my beloved, I thought she was inclined 
to laugh, for her mouth quivered, her cheeks 
flushed, and her eyes filled with tears. But I am 
convinced now, that it was true and pure sympathy 
Uiat filled her breast — not mirth. And haven’t I 
come near laugliing, time and again ? But if I had 


158 


A ROMANCE OF 


the game would have been spoiled,” and at this 
turn of his thoughts, John began to laugh right 
heartily at the absurd speeches he had made in the 
vain hope of blinding the keen, loving eyes of the 
sweetheart he thought so unfaithful. 

When Mrs. Guion and Gertrude were in the 
former’s state-room, and the door closed securely, 
she took Gertrude by the shoulders, and actually 
shook her until she could do so no longer. 

“ Why, Nettie,” exclaimed her friend in sur- 
prise, “ what is the matter ? Are you punishing me, 
and what for ?” 

“Yes, I am, and most emphatically you de- 
serve a good scolding, for the outrageous way you 
are flirting with that horrible widower, and poor 
devoted John toiling in his oflice to make a home 
for you,” and giving Gertrude a parting shake, 
Mrs. Guion commenced most energetically to 
remove her dress and don a dressing sacque. 

Gertrude made no answer, but settled herself 
on the berth as comfortably as its narrow conflnes 
would allow, and waited for further developments 
from the irate chaperone. Dead silence reigned 
for several moments ; the only sounds audible were 
the splashing of the waves, and the sound of Mr. 
de Jouville’s feet as he tramped overhead, as we 
have seen. It was broken at last by Nettie, who 
began in a softer tone : “Indeed, dear Gertrude, 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


159 


you really distress me. I am at a loss what to 
make of your conduct, and your unequal temper, 
not at all your own sweet self.” 

“ Still the widower seems to like my disposition 
as he sees it,” interrupted Gertrude, mischief lurk- 
ing in every tone of her voice. 

“The widower, always the widower!” cried 
her companion. “ I am sick and tired of him and 
his mock-sorrowful manner, when I know he does 
not care, and never did care for his ‘ dear Amalie,’ 
to s^y nothing of his children, whom, I believe, he 
thinks a nuisance. He may deceive you all, but he 
don’t blind me,” she added with a decided shake 
of her wise little head. 

“ Mrs. Guion,” said her companion, with much 
dignity and rising, “ you forget, I think, that the 
gentleman you so dislike, and with no cause, is my 
friend, and as such I can allow nothing said to his 
disadvantage,” and she moved towards the door, 
head erect, cheeks scarlet, and nostrils quivering 
with indignation. 

Mrs. Guion sprang forward, and putting her 
arms around the angry girl, drew her down on her 
lap as she reseated herself in an arm-chair. “Now, 
dear,” she said coaxingly, “ don’t be vexed, I 
hardly know you in such a mood ; I had no idea 
you cared so much for him. Oh ! dear, poor J ohn ; 


IGO 


A UOMANGE OF 


liow could you ever love this man, when you once 
loved him, and he is such a manly fellow ?” 

“ Who says I care for Mr. de Jouville, Nettie ?” 
Gertrude asked, willing to be appeased, her anger 
being more feigned than real. “ I never did, and 
I do not, but I do feel so sorry for those children, 
and he seems to be so lonely that really I am 
beginning to wonder if it is not my mission to take 
him and all his incumbrances.” 

“ And leave your once dearly-beloved John in 
the lurch ?” 

■ ‘‘ Oh ! he would get over it. ‘ Men die and 
worms eat them ; but never for love,’ you know ; 
and only think, Nettie, how splendidly I could 
bring up those children !” and Gertrude clasped 
her hands in rapture at the thought, and glanced 
at Nettie to see how she liked the idea. Not at 
all, was evident, for Mrs. Guion looked really dis- 
pleased, and said gravely : 

“ I am verry sorry this thing should have hap- 
pened. John will take it very hard, and I think 
your conduct has been anything but fair to him. 
He i^ too noble a man to be cast aside for a 
bundle of sighs like Mr. de Jouville. You can 
laugh if you choose,” seeing Gertrude’s eyes were 
dancing with merriment, “ but I feel very badly.” 

“Well, it is a shame,” murmured Gertrude, 
kissing her. “ Don’t be provoked with me, dear. 


A TAGHTma PARTY. 


ICl 


but it’s my mission to do for them, I think, and I 
would be shirking my life’s duty to refuse him if 
he asked me.” 

“ I earnestly pray he won’t ask you. It’s my 
only hope for John ; for I suppose, strange girl 
that you are, you care for him as much as you 
ever did ?” 

“ That is a question I do not think I will 
answer,” was the hesitating reply. John and I 
will settle all those things between ourselves, 
Nettie.” 

“ I thought I understood girls,” exclaimed poor 
Mrs. Guion, “ but I am afraid I do not in the least. 
Yon, alone, are an enigma, with your missions and 
absurd sense of duty towards widowers in partic- 
ular, and mankind in general ; and Helen is a silly 
girl to be dazzled by Lord Holden’s money. Why 
don’t she look at the man !” 

“ Are you worried about her, also ?” asked Ger- 
trude, astonished. “ He is a first-rate match, and 
thougli he is so ridiculous, is a good fellow in every 
sense of the word.” 

“ But do you really think, Gertrude, that Helen 
can love a man who is continually acting like a 
very goose, ‘making himself more agreeable 
through his faults than through his good qualities?’ 
as some one says.” 

“You and I could not, Nettie, but Helen likes 
11 


162 


A ROMANCE OF 


to rule, and Philip would think all she did and 
said too wise and good to be disputed ; for I think 
he realizes to a degree he is not quite as other 
men, and what there is in him Helen will bring 
out, you may depend upon it.” 

“Well,” returned her friend, doubtfully, “it 
may be so, but I couldn’t marry a Philip Holden.” 

“ Nor I,” said Gertrude, rising. “ I am going 
on deck ; when will you be up ?” 

“ In a moment,” was the answer, and Gertrude 
ran up the stairs into the warm afternoon sun- 
light. 

“ I hope,” thought the chaperone, anxiously, 
when alone, that the parents of these two girls 
won’t blame me if anything comes of these yacht- 
ing flirtations. I almost wish I had not taken the 
charge when asked ; but all the worry is the fault 
of that miserable old widower !” 


A YACHTIjVG PABTT, 


163 


CHAPTER VII. 

“When first I saw thee, all my heart inclined 
To love thee for thy beauty’s sake alone, 

As one chance-girdled with the Paphian zone, 

To win the homage of mankind. 

But when the nobler beauty of thy mind 
In full-orbed splendor on my vision shone, 

(Late — for my eyes were dazzled by thine own!) 
Then, with my lighter fancy was combined 
Such reverent worship, all my being grew — 

Mind, soul and sense — thy being to adore ; 

And then it was that perfectly I knew — 

Since God -like Reason fanned the torch of Love — 
My licart’s pure fiame wouljl burn forever more. 
Pure, clear and constant as the stars above.” 

When Pliilip and Helen were out of sight of 
the “ Pirate ” he ceased his vigorous rowing and 
allowed the boat to drift along- in the shadows 
thrown over the water by the tall trees on the 
islands, only now and then dipping the oars in 
the water to avoid some snag of which she warned 
him. They drifted almost in silence, each busy 
with their own thoughts, and he, as well, covertly 
watching the sweet face under the wide-brimmed 
hat, with the varying expressions that flitted over 
it, making her a study ; for each time he looked 
something new was seen. 


164 


A ROMANCE OF 


“ How have — aw — you enjoyed this — aw — trip, 
Miss Helen ?” Philip asked, after a while. 

“ Which do you mean, the one in the yacht or 
in the small boat ?” asked Helen, demurely. 

“ Aw — in the — aw — ‘ Pirate,’ of course,” he re- 
plied. 

“ How could I help having a delightful time ?” 
she said, gratefully, “when you all^o so much for 
my pleasure, and ” 

‘‘You do as much for ours,” Holden inter- 
rupted, too quickly to recollect his drawl. 

“ Why don’t you always speak like that ?” cried 
Helen, impulsively, “it is so very much better 
than a drawl.” 

“Aw — never thought — of — aw — it,” said lie, 
slowly,” “would it — aw — please you?” watching 
her face to learn her thoughts. 

“Yes,” she answered, bravely meeting his eyes, 
“ it would, most decidedly. I like a man to be a 
man and she stopped, frightened for a moment, 
but never dropping her gaze. “You are so good I 
hate to have the least thing spoil you, and this 
might, in time, you know,” she added, deprecat- 
ingly. 

Philip turned his head away, and then began 
to row, fast and furiously, into the open water. 

“ Oh, dear !” murmured Helen to herself, “ I hope 


A YACHTIWG PARTY. 


1G5 


I have not offended him by ray frankness, but it’s 
just my luck.” 

At last, the silence became oppressive, and she 
ventured timidly to ask if she might help row. ^ 

“Are you — aw — frightened, little lady?” he 
asked, looking up, with a smile on his handsome 
lips, “ aw — was a trifle — aw — mad, but — aw — 
couldn’t stay so — aw — long,” and he held out his 
hand, saying : “ Shake hands — aw — you and I must 
not quarrel.” 

Helen was only too glad to be at peace, and 
laid lier hand confidingly in his, thinking, “ I don’t 
care if he is ridiculous about some things, and 
every one makes fun of him, I like him and am 
glad to know he likes me, and he is awfully hand' 
some and she gave a half-arch, half-tender glance, 
whicli so emboldened my lord that he pressed the 
hand he still held to his lif)s. 

“Oh, you mustn’t,” she cried, snatching her 
hand away. “ Why, what will people think ?” 

“Aw — don’t care,” he answered, laughing at 
her dismay. “ People are not — aw — thick around 
here,” looking over the wooded islands and de- 
serted waters on all sides. “ Aw — would like to 
hold that — aw — hand for ” 

“ Oh ! Mr. Holden, do get me those lovely 
flowers,” exclaimed Helen, in a great hurry. 

“Aw — was just going to — aw — offer myself,” 


16G 


A BOMAJVO£J OF 


said Philip, indignantly. “ Aw — think you might 
aw — wait until — aw — get through !” 

‘‘ I really cannot,” Helen replied, laughing in 
spite of herself at the ludicrous position of affairs. 
“ Those are the loveliest wild flowers I have seen 
this Summer.” 

Philip, with rather a sullen expression on his 
face, rowed the boat to the shore, and pushing it 
into the sand started to step on land, and put one 
foot on a rock, and then, having an idea, he forgot 
to take the other off the sid^ of the boat, while he 
said, earnestly ; 

“ Aw — have courted lots of — aw — girls, but 
they — aw — never courted me, but — aw — had hopes 
— for — aw — you, and ” but here, in the vio- 

lence of his emotions, he moved, lost his balance, 
and went head-first into the shallow water along 
the shore. The boat, by the impetus he gave it as 
he went over, sprang back into the stream, one oar 
falling over the side. Helen leaned forward to 
catch it, but was not quick enough, and she had the 
annoyance to see it drift rapidly away with the 
tide. 

It was the work of a moment to seize the re- 
maining oar and paddle toward the lost one, grasp 
it, and row for the shore, already quite a little dis- 
tance off. 

In the mean time, Philip had picked himself up. 


A TAGHTING PARTY. 


167 


and, shaking the water off as much as he could, at- 
tempted to walk to dry land, the water only reach- 
ing to his knees, but alas ! for Philip, the rocks 
proved slippery, and his boots were heavy with 
water, so that instead of getting ashore, he slipped, 
made a tremendous effort to save himself, but in 
vain, he went down flat under water, just as Helen 
appeared on the scene of disaster. 

“ Oh J Mr. Holden,” she cried, “ I am so sorry, 
it’s all my fault, but,” she began to laugh, “ you 
really must excuse me laughing, but you do look 
so funny standing knee-deep in the water, dripping 
like a fountain,” and she went off into fresh shouts 
of irrepressible laughter, until tears rolled down 
her cheeks. 

Holden looked provoked as well as wet for a 
moment, and then the ludicrous side of the whole 
thing dawned upon him, it probably being the 
first time in his life that he had ever seen any- 
thing funny, and all wet as he was, and still stand- 
ing in the water, he joined in Helen’s mirth, until 
the woods and rocks re-echoed with their laughter. 
As soon as she could speak, she advised him to get 
in the boat. 

‘‘ But Pm too -wet,” he said. 

‘‘No matter if you are ; we must hasten back to 
the ‘ Pirate,’ ” she urged, “ you will take your death 
of cold, and then Pll be blamed,” and she put on 


168 


A ROMANCE OF 


as doleful an expression as she could, with her 
eyes dancing, and her mouth twitching in spite of 
all she could do. 

“ I am — aw — not going back to the — aw — yacht 
in this guise,” was the decided answer. “ Aw — 
tell you, we will — aw — go on shore, build a fire, 
and — aw — will sit by it and — aw — dry myself.” 

“ But your matches,” suggested the more prac- 
tice lady. 

“Confound it, they are wet!” he exclaimed, 
with real vexation ; “ we will have to — aw — re- 
turn, and won’t the fellows laugh — aw — at my 
plight ?” 

“ They will probably not have returned,” said 
Helen, anxious to comfort, “ but you had better 
row, it will prevent your taking cold, and this 
warm sun will soon dry your flannel suit enough 
to hide all signs of your having been overboard, 
and I won’t tell.” 

“Well,” he responded, with a half tender, half 
mirthful glance, “ if you had — aw — answered me, 
and had — aw — not wanted the — aw — flowers, I 
wouldn’t have — aw — fallen in ; but the water 
has’nt — aw — dampened my ardor in the least, and 
— aw — want to know if you will — aw — take me, 
wet or dry — aw — forever ?” As he uttered the last 
words he leaned forward, taking her hand in his. 

Oh ! there’s the other boat,” cried Helen, in a 


A YAGHTINa PARTY. 


169 


great fright. Do sit up and row : if they see us 
we will never hear the last of it, you making love, 
wet through and through,” and her face dimpled 
in a hearty laugh. 

“It’s no — aw — laughing matter to — aw — me, 
Helen,” he answered, gravely. “ I love you ; give 
me — aw — some answer, dear !” 

“ The last day we are on board the ‘ Pirate,’ I 
will give you my answer,” Helen said softly, and 
then turned and hailed the approaching boat. 

About four o’clock in the afternoon the three 
boat-loads returned, the two parties laden with 
their spoil, but Holden and Helen could only show 
one bass, one crab, and one dog-fish, much bat- 
tered about the head. 

“ To kill him,” said Helen, in explanation, “ he 
scared me.” 

“ What did you pound him with ?” asked Jack 
Wood. 

“ Oh, I didn’t touch him at all, and Mr. Holden 
couldn’t think for some time what to use, the oars 
being too long, when suddenly he pulled off his 
boot, and hammered the horrible creature with 
the heel ; but this is the funny part of it, the boot 
was wet, and no amount of tugging could get it 
on, so for the last two hours he has been like ‘ my 
son John, one boot off, and one boot on !’” 

“ But how did he get his feet wet ?” inquired 


170 


A ROMANCE OF 


Mr. Guion, when the laugh at Helen’s fun had 
subsided, “ the boats are perfectly dry.” 

“ Getting flowers for me,” she answered inno- 
cently, “ he stepped into the shallow water along- 
shore. Do you suppose,” anxiously, “ he’ll take 
cold ?” 

“And die?” asked Jack, with a laugh; then 
lowering his voice, “ only smart people die young, 
my lady.” 

“ If smartness consists in making cutting 
speeches. I’m glad he isn’t afflicted in that way,” 
she retorted with spirit, and walked off towards 
the cabin. 

“Take care. Wood ; when a girl’s smitten you 
cannot convince her of any thing wrong in her 
divinity, and ‘ she’s got it bad,’ ” laughed Harry 
Guion. “ It’s only after the honey-moon that they 
discover flaws, you know. I speak from experi- 
ence,” giving his wife, who stood beside him, a 
sly pinch. 

“And men always see faults in their sweet- 
hearts before the honeymoon,” she replied ; “ love 
never makes them blind, I have discovered, Harry,” 
she continued, as Jack went off to join another 
group in the stern. “ Don’t you think Gertrude is 
very foolish to allow this Mr. de Jouville to pay 
her such devoted attention. Just look at them by 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


171 


the wheel ; they have eyes and ears for no one bat 
themselves.” 

“ It’s a very delightful state of mind, my dar- 
ling,” he made answer ; “I never was so happy in 
my life when you had eyes and ears for no one but 
me, and I, ears and eyes for no one but you ; still,” 
he said, as he glanced at them bending over a 
quaintly-bound book, Gertrude reading in a low 
voice, and letting her companion see, by every 
motion and look, that he, and he alone, occupied 
her thoughts ; “ still, it’s rather too devoted for an 
engaged girl, but I guess John will be able to 
manage all that.” 

“ But he isn’-t,” Nettie said, earnestly, and 
Gertrude is going to give him up. I had a talk 
with her to-day, and she says she thinks it’s her 
mission in life to marry this old fellow, and train 
up his seven orphans in the way they should go. 
I am disgusted ! A girl should wait until she is 
forty-five before she starts a mission, for at that 
age she is, and always will be, a spinster — that is 
an accomplished fact ; but for a girl of twenty to 
devote herself to a Fossil, because he happens to 
keep a private orphan asylum, is too absurd to 
talk about !” and Mrs. Guion’s feelings became too 
much for utterance. 

“Never mind, little woman,” said her husband, 
soothingly. “ I have no fears but all will come 


173 


A ROMANCE OF 


right. John Church isn’t the man to sit down and 
allow his property to slip through his fingers. 
Come with me, while I dress for dinner.” 

Instinctively Gertrude knew they were speak- 
ing of her, and she was the more effusive on that 
account, thinking, “ I will show them I can act, 
too. John is not the only one who has a part to 
ifiay. ^^ettie misunderstands me, and justly, for I 
am not myself, and she will worry until she dis- 
covers the game that has been played these Sum- 
mer days on the ‘ Pirate playing with edge- 
tools, I fear, for I resent John’s watching me more 
and more ; it’s enough to make any woman justly 
indignant. Nettie wouldn’t praise him so highly 
if she knew the underhand way in which he is 
acting. Poor dear fellow, so jealous of nothing, 
that he is never happy, he makes the meat he 
feeds himself upon, to vary the quotation a little. 
But though he is such a goose, and I am so angry 
at him, I cannot help loving him. It’s woman’s 
nature, I suppose,” and she looked lovingly at the 
disguised head beside her, and he, turning quickly 
from the page before him, met it, making Ger- 
trude blush and drop her eyes in great confusion. 

“ She did but look upon him, and his blood 
Blushed deeper even from his inmost heart, 

For at each glance of those a soul 
Looked forth as from the azure gates of Heaven.” 


A YAGUTING PARTY. 


173 


“ CoTifoimd that old 'widower,” he muttered, 
“that’s just the way she used to look at me ; I never 
thought she could so soon forget me,” and he 
ground his teeth with rage, while he felt himself 
grow deadly pale. 

“ Why, Mr. de Jouville,” Gertrude exclaimed, 
“ what is the matter ? How pale you are ! Do you 
feel faint?” 

“Nothing, nothing, my dear Miss Wood. That 
sweet glance of yours gave me a sudden pain in 
my heart, and that, you know,” placing his hand 
upon it, and gazing tenderly at her, “ is a very 
delicate organ with a Frenchman, and my having 
a pain when I receive such a heavenly look from 
the one woman the world holds for me is not at all 
surprising ; the only wonder is that I retain my 
senses,” he ended in as impassioned a tone as he 
could assume. 

“ Indeed,” she murmured, highly amused at the 
nonsense John did not scruple to talk, and think- 
ing, “Nettie need not talk about girls being diffi- 
cult to understand, it’s the men ; they are always 
breaking out in a new place.” 

“On a yacht an old man’s fancy lightly turns 
to thoughts of love,” parodied Jack, in an audible 
voice, sauntering past them with fiancee on his 
arm, and giving Gertrude an opportunity to smile 
openly, of which she gladly availed herself, though 


174 


A I20MAJ)iraB OF 


she said, ever mindful of the part she was play- 
ing : 

“ That was decidedly saucy in my brother, Mr. 
de Jouville.” 

‘‘I can easily excuse it. Men with gray hairs 
are obliged to overlook in a great measure the 
follies so apparent in the young men of the present 
day, and then, being your brother he needs no 
apology,” and the widower beamed a most bland 
and forgiving smile on Jack’s retreating form. 
“ I try to teach my dearly loved children,” he con- 
tinued, ‘‘always to take an insult according to tlie 
source from which it comes, and already the little 
cherubo are practicing my teachings, and I know,” 
raising his eyes, or at least, spectacles, to heaven, 
“ that my precious Amalie watches and appreciates 
my untiring labors to make her children, like her- 
self, as nearly perfect as poor frail humanity can 
be.” 

“ And you will succeed,” exclaimed Gertrude, 
enthusiastically. “ A man who is actuated by the 
high and holy motives that move you, can never 
fail in any task to which he devotes himself.” 

. “ Ah ! Miss Gertrude,” he responded tenderly, 
“ it is so hard to do it alone ; it needs a woman to 
train girls, and you know my deceased partner 
left me all girls but one. Yes, I feel myself 
unequal to the task, if I go through the world 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


175 


alone, but oh ! how pleasant it would be to have 
some beloved companion like thou art,” pressing 
her hand under a corner of her dress so it should 
be unobserved, and resolving to use ‘‘ thou,” 
because it sounded so very foreign. “ Thou, and 
thou alone,” he continued, “ can take my dead 
wife’s place ; wilt thou, beloved of my heart ?” 

“ Aw — couldn’t have — aw — proposed better 
myself,” said a familiar voice at this critical mo- 
ment, behind them. ‘‘ Aw — didn’t mean to listen, 
but it was — aw — so interesting ! Aw — suppose 
‘ thou,’ is the — aw — latest style ?” 

Gertrude sprang up with flaming cheeks and 
ran down into the cabin, while John and Philip 
confronted one another. 

“ Game — aw — go all square, old fellow ?” in- 
quired my lord. “Proposal — aw — highly enter- 
taining.” 

“ Yes, but mind you, don’t listen again, Phil,” 
and John turned on his heel and went below as he 
heard the dinner bell, saying to himself, most un- 
grammatically : “ I’ve been and gone and done it. 
Now for the consequences !” 


176 


A ROMANCE OF 


CHAPTER YIII. 

“The lover, in melodious verses, 

His singular distress rehearses, 

Still closing with a rueful cry, 

‘ Was ever such a wretch as I V 
Yes, thousands have endured before 
All thy distress ; some, haply more.” 

— Gowper. 

Helex was the last one at the dinner-table. 
“ Gertrude desires to be excused, she is suffering 
from a severe headache,” she said, as she took her 
accustomed seat at Philip’s right hand. 

“ A prey to — aw — her emotions ?” inquired my 
lord. 

Silence reigned, all wondering what new idea 
was fermenting in the now" too active brain of the 
host. 

“ She — aw" — ought to be,” he went on, leisurely 
helping the fish, “ having a certain — aw — fellow I 

know say — aw — ‘Wilt th ’ oh! by George, 

W'ho kicked me under the table ?” and he dropped 
the fish-knife and glared angrily at the assembled 
guests. 

“Come, man, give us some dinner,” exclaimed 
Mr. Guion, noticing something w-as amiss. “ De 
Jouville, will you pass the castor this way?” 

Philip complied sullenly with Guion’s wish for 


A YACHTmG PARTY. 


177 


some dinner, and did not speak again to anyone 
but Helen, and the meal was very quiet, notwith- 
standing the efforts of the chaperone and her hus- 
band to make it otherwise. All saw something 
was wrong between the host and the widower, and 
it did not require a vast amount of shrewdness to 
imagine what it was. 

Connecting this with the non-appearance of 
Miss Wood, it was not difficult to put two and two 
together and find it made four, and, all present 
being good mathematicians, the result was soon 
attained. 

When dinner was over, all hastened on deck, 
glad to escape the unusual constraint that each 
felt, and hoping that the beautiful evening dimly 
seen from the cabin would dissipate all unpleasant 
feelings, as it did — Philip being too good-natured 
to remember a grudge, and John too anxious to 
carry on his part to remain angry, when Holden 
made the first steps towards a reconciliation. 

The scene that burst upon them as they stepped 
upon deck was glorious. It is just at sunset, and 
great banks of purple clouds lie in the West, above 
and below them peeps forth the declining sun, 
and touches their softly ragged edges with a golden 
glory, which makes them look as though the gates 
of the ‘‘Happy Land” had been left ajar, so that 
mortals might have a glimpse of the marvelous 
12 


178 


A OF 


sights within. Light, fleecy clouds are drifting 
over the sky, now made by reflection a vivid 
crimson, the next moment fading to a delicate pink, 
then to a gray, and so on to white, until they 
vanish or are lost in some larger cloud floating 
near them. All around lies the placid sea, chang- 
ing its hues every moment as the lights and 
shadows touch it, and gradually becoming a dark 
blue in the distance, with a ripple across it, telling 
of the approach of the sunset breeze. 

On the right is “ the wild New England shore,” 
the purple hills making a charming background 
for the light and color of the sunset, and the shin- 
ing sea; while below these “everlasting hills” a 
tiny village nestles, the white houses and church 
spire, and the lazily-curling smoke, and the faint 
sounds of life that are wafted across the water 
only make the perfect calm and peace of dear old 
mother Nature more restful, and the longing to live 
nearer to her came over all the party as they 
gazed with eyes that never tired on the wonder- 
fully beautiful scene before them, that resembled 
more the beauties celestial than terrestial. 

‘ ‘ Softly the evening came. The sun from the western 
horizon 

Like a magician extended his wand over the landscape ; 
Twinkling vapors arose, and the sky and water and 
forest 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


179 


Seemed all on fire at the touch, and melted and mingled 
together. 

Hanging between two skies, a cloud with edges of silver, 
Floated the boat, with its dripping oars, on the motion- 
less water. 

* ***** 

And, through the amber air, above the crest of the wood- 
land, 

Saw the column of smoke that arose from a neighboring 
dwelling — 

Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant lowing of 
cattle, ” 

— Mrs. Guion quoted softly, breaking the solemn 
hush that had fallen upon the company, and then, 
feeling a light touch on her arm, she turned and 
saw Gertrude, who had stolen up-stairs unobserved ; 
her eyes w'ere brimming over with tears, as she 
whispered : 

“Thank you, Nettie. I liad no words at my 
command to do justice to the scene and then, as 
though wishing to be alone, she walked away to a 
nook not comfortable enough to be a favorite with 
the young people, and where she hoped no one 
would follow her. 

Her moving started the rest of the group, and 
in a few moments Holden, the widower, and Harry 
Guion were left standing near the wheel, each 
smoking, and caring more for a smoke just at that 
moment than the ladies, who were seated in pic- 


180 


A ROMANCE OF 


turesque attitudes in the stem, with the men who 
did not care for the weed. 

John Church was decidedly restless, biting the 
end of his cigar furiously, and throwing two or 
three away before he was suited. ‘‘ Boys,” he ex- 
claimed, at length, ‘‘ let us go down in the cabin. 
I want to talk over things with you, for I am as 
miserable as ever I was in my life ; if I wasn’t so 
afraid of the water, I really believe I’d drown my- 
self,” and he sighed a sigh that seemed to come 
from his boots. 

“ Can’t we — aw — chat where we are ?” asked 
Philip, much preferring to remain where he could 
catch glimpses of Helen, though on account of the 
gathering darkness she was not distinguishable 
from among the others. 

“ No,” was the decided answer, “ some one 
might overhear, and I want to be unrestrained, and 
learn your opinion,” turning to Guion, and then 
moving towards the cabin stairs, the others follow- 
ing obediently. 

When in the cabin, Holden settled himself 
most comfortably in an arm-chair, Guion stretched 
himself full length on the one settee of which the 
saloon could boast, while John strode up and 
down the narrow space, sending clouds of smoke 
from his cigar. 

“Well?” said Harry, interrogatively, but no 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


181 


answer was returned, and he waited a few mo- 
ments, watching Church lazily through his half- 
closed eyes. 

“ Well ?” he said presently, in the same tone of 
voice, and then with sudden energy, he added, “ I 
intend to be answered this time, John. What is 
the matter now ? You have been remarkably suc- 
cessful in your little game, and Gertrude is evi- 
dently much smitten with the charming widower. 
Upon my w'ord !” he exclaimed, laughing heartily, 
“ you have acted your part well. I don’t think any 
one imagines who you are, and Nettie is so wor- 
ried because Mr. de Jouville is winning Gertrude 
from poor John Church, that I have half a mind 
to tell her all.” 

“Aw — couldn’t have done better — aw — my- 
self,” said Holden, giving, in his unconscious 
self-conceit, the highest praise of which he was 
capable. 

“I know all about it,” exclaimed John, angrily, 
addressing himself to Guion. “Yes, I know all 
about it, and more than you have any idea of, and 
I am furious and miserable.” And the poor fellow 
looked so. 

“What are the new developments of the case ?” 
asked his friend, curiously. “Anything not appar- 
ent to all eyes ?” 

“ No, but she is so false !” and he bit his lips 


183 


A ROMANCE OF 


until they bled, in excitement. ‘‘ She has no idea 
I am her lover, and in the character of that wid- 
ower she allows me to court her as though sire and 
I were strangers. Well, I have endured it long 
enough, and the climax must come.” 

“And — aw — how?” asked Philip, apparently 
much interested. 

“ The very next time I find her alone, I intend 
to put my arms ab'out her, and if she allows it then 
I shall tell her whom I am, and let her know I am 
not to be trifled with !” and John looked fierce 
enough to frighten any one. 

“ My candid opinion,” said Guion, firmly, “ is, 
you have not acted fairly by Miss Wood ; you 
should have gone to her when this excursion was 
first proposed, and told her your suspicions, and 
then, if you could come, have done so in your 
rightful character, if not, have trusted her. Some 
writer says ‘ perfect love casteth out fear !’ ” 

“ That’s — aw — Scripture,” chimed in Philip, but 
Guion, taking no notice of the interruption, con- 
tinued : 

“ And that is my idea, too ; if you love her as 
much as you say you do, that love should be great 
enough to trust her, no matter what happens.” 

“ It’s a pity you didn’t think of all this before 
we started,” said John, contemptuously. 

“ You know I never quite approved of the 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


183 


plan,” was the reply ; but you were so determined 
I knew nothing I said would alter your mind, and 
I let things go on, trusting your lady-love would 
recognize you, but you disguised yourself so well, 
and have acted the forlorn widower so faithfully, 
that I am sure she has no idea who you are.” 

“That she hasn’t,” said John, decidedly, “and 
that’s the worst of it ; for she will, I am con- 
vinced, such is her infatuation with de Jouville, at 
a word from him throw John Church over and 
take the widower.” 

“ It’s — aw — all your own fault,” said Philip, 
rising from his reclining position, “ if — aw — the 
real man had — aw — come, he would have — aw — 
probably distributed his attentions, and — aw — not 
made fast and — aw — furious love to Miss Gertrude 
as you have — aw — done. I, for — aw — one, am 
ashamed of my — aw — connection with you in — 
aw — this, and — aw — shall apologize to the — aw — 
injured lady,” and he looked defiance at John. 

“I never thought of it in that light,” said 
Church, slowly. Then, with some astonishment in 
his tone he exclaimed : 

“ You fellows don’t hesitate to do some tall talk- 
ing; well, to tell the truth, lam ashamed, myself, and 
if she is angry, and breaks off with me before I have 
chance to apologize, I shall deserve it ; but I am 
determined to carry out the game, and let her see I 


184 


A HOJfAJVCB OF 


know how outrageously she has behaved. Still,” 
and he paused thoughtfully, “ there may be some 
motive for her behavior that I am in ignorance of. 
I wonder if she suspects, Harry ?” 

“ I can not say,” returned his friend, doubt- 
fully ; “ she is bright enough to comprehend affairs 
at the first glance, and act accordingly.” 

“ If she has the upper hand I will have to 
apologize, and eat humble pie. I wish heartily I 
was out of the scrape ; it’s a mean piece of business,” 
and John looked as contrite as any one could 
desire. 

‘‘You deserve never to be received in her good 
graces again,” said Guion, severely, ’when a voice 
was heard at the top of the stairs saying, “ Harry, 
what are you three men doing down there ? Aren’t 
you ashamed to neglect us so ?” 

“ W e’re — aw — coming,” said my lord. “ Did 
you — aw — miss us ?” 

“ Oh! immensely,” returned the chaperone, with 
thinly-vailed sarcasm, “ your absence left a void, 
impossible to fill.” 


A YACHTING PARTY, 


185 


CHAPTER IX. 

“ Who says he loves and is not wretched, lies, 

Or that love is madness came mad from his mother. 
’Tis the most reasonable thing in nature. 

What can we do but love ? It is our cup. 

Love is the cross and passion of the breast. 

Its end — its errand.” — Bailey. 

John, as he came on deck looked around for 
Gertrude, and at last espied her, in the dim, un- 
certain light, sitting by herself watching the glis- 
tening water as the “Pirate” swiftly sailed 
through it, her bowsprit pointing in the direction 
of home, for they had turned their faces thither- 
ward that afternoon. He went towards her, but 
paused before he attracted her attention, and noted 
the pretty picture she made, with a fleecy shawl 
wrapped around her, one arm, clad in a half-short 
sleeve, holding it close about her, half revealing, 
half concealing the delicate contour of throat and 
cheek, while the breeze lifted the light fringe of 
hair on her forehead, and even loosened some of 
the heavy puffs on her liead. Altogether, she 
made as sweet a picture as ever gladdened a lover’s 
heart. 

“ God bless her,” he murmured, forgetting for 
the moment her base conduct towards him, “I 


186 


A OF 


heartily wish I was out of this fix, for, as Holden 
says, whatever happens is my fault. But I shall 
carry on the game, come what will,” stubbornness 
being a most prominent trait in his character. 
“ Who would have imagined,” he continued, “ that 
]My Lord Holden, the dandified millionaire, with 
more money than brains, coming out so strongly ? 
Not I, for one ; but I am gradually beginning to 
believe that he is spoiled by being an only son, 
and by having more money than is best for him, 
and by having such blind adoration from women, 
as though he was a golden calf — and he is !” said 
John, suddenly struck by his own wit, and laugh- 
ing at it. “ A little adversity would do him good, 
and probably do away with that absurd drawl and 
quicken his brain. A man can’t be more than 
half a man if he only eats the white bread of life ; 
it’s the black bread that makes the muscle ! ” 

“ All alone, little lady,” he said aloud, touching 
Gertrude lightly on the shoulder. 

She turned, startled. “ Oh, it is you,” she said, 
and made room for him beside her. ‘‘ Yes, I am 
alone, and am glad to have your company. I was 
just thinking of you as you spoke.” 

“ Thank you,” he answered ; and, putting his 
arm tenderly around her, drew her closer to him. 
For a moment Gertrude forgot that anyone but 
her lover, in his true character, was beside her, and 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


187 


she yielded to the caress, whispering, “ It’s quite 
like old times ; isn’t it, dear ?” when, what was her 
astonishment to have him throw her violently from 
him, spring up, with a muttered oath, and rush 
down in the cabin, slamming the doors violently 
behind him. 

For a moment she was too much astounded at 
this insane behavior to understand it, and she 
wondered what she had done or said to vex John 
sO terribly. Then it flashed across her that it was 
the widower she had allowed to embrace her, and 
John, not knowing she knew who he was, was 
madly jealous at the supposed unfaithfulness of 
his betrothed. 

As the whole aspect of the case dawned upon 
her, she laughed until she could do so no longer, 
and was not at all sorry John was vexed. “ It’s 
what he deserves,” she said to herself, “ and I hope 
it will cure him permanently of this silly jealousy.” 

When John Church, in his assumed character, 
had put his arm around Gertrude, he had confi- 
dently expected she would repulse the familiarity 
indignantly, for he could not, nor would not, be- 
lieve she could so soon forget her absent lover ; 
but when she actually seemed to enjoy the caress, 
and even had the assurance to murmur in his ear, 
“It’s quite like old times; isn’t it, dear?” his 
amazement and anger were so great that he could 


188 


A ROMANCE OF 


contain himself no longer, and had rushed off to 
the only place of refuge on the yacht — his state- 
room. When there, he tore off his coat and cravat, 
and began to pace up and down the narrow space 
like a caged animal. 

‘‘ I would never have thought of such a thing 
of Gertrude Wood,” he exclaimed, bitterly ; “no, 
never ; she has lost all sense of modesty ! acts in 
a shameful manner ! ought not to be allowed in 
respectable company ! and then to say such a 
thing, to remind that miserable old widower of 
the ‘old times’ wdth his dead wife just when he is 
supposed to be courting a new one ! 

“ No, I’d never have imagined, nor never be- 
lieved, if told, that the girl whom I thought a 
perfect woman nobly planned, would be such a 
weak, trifling, inconsistent character. I’ll confront 
her ; I’ll tell her she has been discovered in her 
miserable ways, and I’ll ask her if she dares to face 
me — me, her lover, whom she has so outrageously 
betrayed ! I’ll see if I can’t bring a blush to her 
face, though I do not doubt but she has lost the 
power of blushing. 

“I wonder how she will feel when she finds out 
she has secured neither John Church nor Mr. de 
Jouville. I rather guess she’ll be sorry she wasn’t 
off with the old love before she was on with the 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


189 


new,” and John smiled, in a grim way, as he im- 
agined Gertrude’s disappointment. 

“ If it wouldn’t please her I would kill myself,” 
he continued, growing more angry and miserable, 
as he brooded over her baseness. “ Yes, I’d do 
anything to make her repent of her shameful con- 
duct, and have remorse at my untimely end haunt 
her all her life ; but she is, probably, so hardened 
that nothing, however heartrending, will distress 
her for any length of time. 

“ Oh ! my love, my little girl,” he groaned, as 
a full sense of his loss swept over him, “ why have 
you slighted my love ? It would never have failed 
you, for I almost lived in you, and dreamed such 
beautiful dreams of the life we were to pass 
together, and now all are dispelled in a moment,” 
and he threw himself in a chair, and putting his 
arms on the table, sobbed in a pitiful way. “ I 
can’t, oh ! I can’t give her up,” he muttered, “ and 
I cannot marry and respect a girl who has acted 
like she has done. But it’s nearly tearing my heart 
out to let her go, perhaps, see her marry some other 
man, who won’t know how little she is to be 
trusted. 

“I cannot do it !” he exclaimed, springing 
up. ‘‘I never will see her the wife of another. I’ll 
kill myself first, though it is hard to sunder all the 
ties that bind me to earth ; but the chief one is 


190 


A ROMANCE OF 


broken, what should I care for the others ? And 
Gertrude ! I can fancy how shocked she will be 
when she hears John Church is lying in his state- 
room with his throat cut in a ghastly manner,” 
and John forgot his misery for the moment in 
imagining Gertrude’s remorse. 

“ Grief at my suicide will be but temporary,” 
he mused ; “ I’ll make a will, and leave her all I 
possess, so that she will be obliged to say, ‘ How 
noble a revenge !’ but I’ll fix it so that the money 
will prove in the end anything but a noble revenge, 
and she will be more sorry, ten years hence, that 
she was the cause of my death than she wdll be 
when she hears of the terrible fact.” 

Full of his new idea, which could only originate 
in a brain half crazed by jealousy, he sat down, 
and taking paper began to draw his will, not at all 
in a professional manner, but the best he knew 
how. 

‘‘In the name of God, amen. I, John Church, 
in my right mind, do give and bequeath to the 
following persons all my worldly goods, and with 
the directions for the disposal of my mangled body 
to be carried out in full and John paused, feel- 
ing the most sincere pity for himself, a martyr to 
a girl’s whims. 

“ To that miserable woman, by name Gertrude 
Wood,” he resumed, “who is the cause of my 


A YAOUTIN'a PARTY. 


191 


death, but whom I forgive with a truly angelic 
spirit, ever mindful of the truth ‘to err is human, 
to forgive divine,’ (to be found in the Bible, I 
believe, it sounds like it), I give my whole fortune 
of $30,000, to have and to hold until she marries 
some unfortunate man, when it is to be given to 
him as a compensation for having such a deceitful 
wife, and in the hope that the money will make 
him happy when he discovers what a viper he is 
warming in his bosom. To Henry Guion I leave 
all my books and clothes, and to Philip Holden, 
my neck-ties and jewelry, with the desire that 
whenever they use them they will remember the 
friend who was more sinned against than sinning. 
To each of my friends I leave a lock of my hair, 
which is not as long as it should be, but had I 
known I would have committed suicide I would 
not have had it cut. They must take the will for 
the deed. 

“ I wish my two friends, Guion and Holden, to 
take my dead body to some retired place and cre- 
mate it, and taking the ashes put them in a stone 
jar, either decorated or plain, but if decorated to 
be covered with the most horrible and heartrend- 
ing pictures human ingenuity can devise, and then 
to be given to the said Gertrude Wood, on the 
condition that it must stand in her bed-room, in a 
prominent place, labelled : ‘ The ashes of my ill- 


192 


A ROMANCE OF 


used lover, John Church,’ or else she forfeits the 
$30,000, and it is then to be given to the worthy- 
poor, provided there are no orphans among them. 

“I trust to my two friends named herein, who 
have always been true to me, to carry out this my 
last will and testament. 

Signed, “John Church.” 

As he folded the paper with the firm conviction 
he had done a good and noble act, he sighed, and 
said : “ That’s done, now to sharpen my razors. 
Ah ! what a heavy sin lies to that poor girl’s ac- 
count ; but she will be punished. I’ve fixed her ; 
she will never lose the money when the only con- 
dition is to accept my ashes, but they will haunt 
her, and she will never know peace again.” 

Then, looking at his watch in a sleepy way, he 
added : “ It’s quite late. I’ll lie down and take a 
nap before I put an end to myself,” and he stretched 
his six feet of manhood as comfortably on the 
berth as its length admitted, and in a moment was 
in a deep sleep, worn out by the violence of his 
emotions. 


A TAGHTING PABTT. 


193 


CHAPTER X. 

“ 1 have used you worse than that dead man ; 

Done you more wrong ; we both have undergone 
That trouble that has made me thrice your own ; 
Henceforward I will rather die than doubt.” 

— Tennyson. 

About an hour after John had fallen into this 
deep, dreamless sleep, Philip, who shared the 
state-room with him, came in, much surprised to 
find a lamp burning and his friend in bed, while 
his astonishment increased to see on the table, a 
folded paper, a pair of razors, and a strop. 

“ Whew,” he whistled softly, “ something’s — aw 
up, rather — aw — looks as though John was — aw — 
desperate,” and approaching the table, he read on 
the paper the inscription, “ The last Will and 
Testament of John Church.” 

“Oho!” he ejaculated, “aw, said something 
was — aw — up — aw — am going to read it, — aw — 
don’t care if he is — aw — mad and he deliberately 

sat down, unfolded the paper which did not at all 
resemble a legal document of so much weight, and 
slowly read it through, but with many a laugh, 
carefully subdued, so as not to awaken his sleeping 
companion. “It’s — aw — too good to enjoy — aw— 
alone, Pll — aw — call Guion,” and, acting upon the 
13 


194 


A ROMANCE OF 


iaipulse, he sprang up and went to Guion’s state- 
room, saying : 

‘‘I say, Harry, if — aw^you are not asleep — 
aw — come in my room.” 

In a moment his friend joined him, with the 
question, “ What’s wanted, Phil ?” 

“ The — aw — richest thing,” he replied, “ John’s 
been — aw — making a will, and — aw — found it : he 
must have been — aw — crazy when he wrote it. 
Don’t — aw — make a noise ; he is asleep,” and the 
two men tiptoed in. 

Philip handed the paper to Guion, who read it 
through without a smile, then began to read it a 
second time, and enjoy the absurdity of the thing. 

‘‘ Here are his — aw — razors,” said Helen, ‘‘ he 
— aw — evidently contemplated some — aw — dark 
and — aw — terrible deed.” 

“ The man is an idiot,” exclaimed Guion, im- 
patiently, “or crazy. I never could have imagined 
John Church guilty of such outrageous trash as 
this last will and testament.” 

At this moment John awoke, and raising on 
his elbow he stared at the two men, unable to col- 
lect his thoughts and explain the general confu- 
sion of the state-room. 

Suddenly it flashed across him, and he groaned, 
startling the midnight visitor so^ much, that he 
dropped the precious will. * 


A YACHT IN a PARTY. 


195 


“ What are you two fellows about ?” inquired 
John. 

“ Philip discovered this blood-thirsty docu- 
ment, and summoned me for consultation, fearing 
you might be fool enough to carry out your 
design before breakfast,” said Harry Guion, de- 
termined not to smoothe matters over. 

“ Aw — always supposed you — aw — were a sensi- 
ble fellow. Church, but — aw — see — aw — was mis- 
taken,” remarked Holden, sarcastically. 

“ What ever possessed you, man, when you 
wrote it ? It’s the most absurd, far-fetched thing I 
have ever seen,” asked Guion. “No sane person 
would be guilty of it.” 

“You can ridicule me as much as you choose,’-’ 
John anwered solemnly, “but when I wrote that 
I meant every word of it. Now listen,” and sitting 
up, he related to them all his woes, and how much 
he had suffered, until he thought his mind would 

go. 

“Well, it was hard,” admitted Guion, “but I 
don’t think any amount of trouble should make a 
man forget his manhood enough to write such 
trash as this,” and he handed the will to John, who 
read it through with an expression of great dis- 
gust on his face, and when finished he exclaimed : 

“ This is only fit to be cremated ; what a fool 
I must have been !” 


196 


A ROMANCE OF 


“Say — aw — an ass,” suggested my lord, “it 
won’t — aw — lacerate your feelings so — aw — much.” 

“Don’t tear it,” cried Guion, as John made a 
motion of doing so, “ preserve it, and read it when- 
ever you have another wild fit of jealousy. I war- 
rant it will cure you for good.” 

“I have had more than enough to make me 
jealous,” said Church, passionately, as he thought 
of his wrongs. “ I’ll never trust a woman again ; 
they are all deceitful.” 

“ What are you going to do — aw — about your 
— aw — disguise?” asked Holden, “you ought to 
carry it out.” 

“ Confound my disguise ! I wish, from the bot- 
tom of my soul, I had never assumed it.” 

“I think with Holden,” said Guion, “that you 
had better carry it out, anyway until you apolo- 
gize to Miss Gertrude for your rudeness last even- 
ing ; she imagines, Nettie told me, that she had 
offended Mr. de Jouville.” 

John sprang up and tried to pace the floor, but 
as there was no room, resumed his seat. 

“ I don’t know what to do !” he exclaimed, “ my 
plan was to propose to Gertrude and then declare 
who I was, but I don’t feel in the mood for it 
now.” 

“ Well, sleep over the idea,” said Guion, rising 
to go. “ I think Miss Gertrude knows more than 


A TACIITINO PARTY. 


197 


we think. I hope Nettie won’t be too curious about 
our conversation,” he added, as he closed the door. 

“ Come — aw — go to bed. Church,” urged Philip. 
“I’d go to Miss Wood and make a clean breast of 
the whole affair ;” then, recollecting his drawl, 
“she’ll — aw — forgive you; women — aw — always 
do — aw — have heard.” 

“The question is, whether I’ll forgive ^er,” 
said masterful John, composing himself for sleep. 
“ As much in the wrong as I have been, she has 
been more so, and I can never trust her again.” 

“ To err is — aw — human, to forgive divine,” 
quoted Philip from the will. “That is — aw — not 
Scripture, but — aw — Pope. You’ll feel better in 
the morning, old boy,” he added, as he blew out 
the light. 

John Church did not appear at breakfast the 
next day, and it was nearly lunch-time when he 
came on deck. 

“ Good afternoon, Mr. de Jouville, said Mrs. 
Guion, gaily rising and making him a sweeping 
curtsey ; “ were the charms of Morpheus more 
alluring than those we ladies possess.” 

“A severe headache must be my excuse,” he 
answered. “ I have been unable to make myself an 
agreeable companion, so remained below until 
more amiable.” 

He watched all that day for some opportunity 


198 


A ROMANCE OF 


to be alone with Gertrude, but though she was 
cordial, and perfectly at ease, she gave him no 
chance for a tete a tete, seeming to know by intui- 
tion what was his desire, and to take a mischievous 
delight in frustrating it. 

He could not feel at ease, and acted his part of 
the polite French widower with less success than 
usual. 

A tremendous thunder-storm coming up in the 
afternoon, drove all the party, but John, to the 
cabin; but he could not endure the close air and 
constant hum of conversation, so he preferred to 
walk up and down on deck, enjoying a grim sort 
of pleasure in the w^arring of the elements, and al- 
most w'ishing he could take an active part against 
them, forgetting his fear of the water in his 
stronger fear of his own foolish mood. 

His thoughts were busy with the events of the 
last night, and though his mood was very much 
more rational, it was exceedingly bitter, and he 
was not sorry when he caught the sound of Mrs. 
Guion reading to the assembled company, holding 
them spell-bound with the music of her voice, and 
the exquisite language of the poet. John did not 
descend the cabin stairs, but stood w^here he could 
listen unobserved, but still see all that went on be- 
low. And this is w^hat he heard : 


A VACin'I^VG PARTY. 


199 


“Like an island in a river, 

Art thou, my love, to me ; 

And I journey by thee ever 
With a gentle ecstacy. 

I arise to fall before thee, 

I come to kiss thy feet ; 

To adorn thee, and adore thee. 

Mine only one ! my sweet ! 

“ And thy love hath power upon me, 

Like a dream upon a brain ; 

For the loveliness that won me, 

With the love, too, doth remain, 

And my life it beautifieth. 

Though love be but a shade, 

Known of only ere it dieth. 

By the darkness it hath made.” 

“ Known of only ere it dieth 
By the darkness it hath made,” 

— repeated John, resuming his walk. “Yes, that is 
it, the poets always seem to touch the right chord. 
Men live poetry all their lives, but unless they 
have the gift of poesy they die, and no one knows 
the I’omance that is right in our midst.” 

The rain by this time having ceased, the party 
flocked on deck admiring the magnificent rainbow 
that spanned the heavens, and the beautiful clouds 
floating overhead. 

“ To-morrow morning we will be at Long 
Branch,” announced my lord, “our voyage is 
nearly over, friends.” 


200 


A OF 


“ Miss Gertrude,” said Mr. de Jouville, resolved 
to make the opportunity he so much desired, 
“ here is a pleasant seat, and dry too, I can certify.” 

“Thanks,” she returned, seating herself, and 
earnestly hoping some of the people would remain 
near by ; but they, remembering the old adage, 
“ Two is company,” walked off, exchanging^signifi- 
cant glances as they noted the lover-like manner 
of the once bereaved widower. 

“Do you remember,” he asked, sitting down 
beside her, “ the question I put to you a day or 
two ago, and Holden interrupted us ?” 

“Yes,” she murmured, glancing quickly at him, 
then dropping her eyes while she thought, “I won- 
der what new feature the game will assume? I 
am beginning to tire of this playing at cross pur- 
poses.” 

“Well,” he said, “I want a reply, and I pray 
you make it a favorable one ; I cannot bear to lose 
a living love, when so near me ;” and he looked 
fiercely at the bent head beside him, thinking she 
was listening entirely too favorably to Mr. de 
Jouville’s suit. 

To his surprise and discomfiture she raised her 
head, and looking archly into his face, said: 

“Why don’t you speak for yourself, John, and 
let the widower plead his own cause, if he wants 
to do so ?” 


A YACUTim PARTY. 


301 


Let the widower plead his own cause?” re- 
peated he, stupidly, too much astonished at her 
words to comprehend them fully. 

“ Yes,” she said impatiently, “ you had better 
plead your own cause, Mr. Church, and explain 
why you have assumed the character of Mr. de 
Jouville ! I have known you from the first,” she 
continued, seeing he did not answer, “ and deter- 
mined to carry on the game just as far as you did. 
And now I demand an explanation,” and she be- 
came very dignified. 

‘‘ Known me all the time,” he said, “ and have 
been making a fool of me ?” 

“No,” she retorted with spirit, “ you did that 
yourself.” 

“ And last night you knew it was I that em- 
braced you !” 

“Yes, and laughed heartily at the ridiculous 
way you jumped up and rushed off. Ah, John ! 
has all the suffering you have endured paid for 
the fun you have had in your disguise, when you 
could have been so happy in your own character?” 

“ How do you know I’ve suffered ?” he asked, 
sullenly, beginning to resent her being the brighter 
of the two, after all. 

“ Why, don’t you know I understand your 
moods so well that every change in your face tells 
me your thoughts ?” 


202 


A ROMANCE OF 


“ Why, I cannot read you like that,” he said, 
tvonderingly. 

‘‘ I think it is always so,” she made answer ; 
“men rarely try to read a woman’s character 
thoroughly, while it is a pleasant study for the 
women to make themselves conversant with the 
humors of their liege lords. Men are generally too 
much interested in the study of self to care for 
much else, I think.” 

“ Gertrude, are you angry ?” he asked, anx- 
iously, turning towards her. “I hope not, but you 
have a right to be. I thought I was the one who 
had to forgive, but I find it is I who must sue for 
pardon ; I had no cause for my unjust suspicions, 
and should have been noble enough to trust the 
woman I love so dearly. My darling, look over 
my unfair conduct and say you forgive me ;” and 
John looked very contrite and anxious for pardon. 

Gertrude put out her hand, which he eagerly 
grasped, and looking up with tearful eyes, said : 

“Yes, John, I was very angry, and with good 
reason, for your mistrusting me has been veiy bit- 
ter to me ; but you have been noble enough in 
your apology to drive away all the indignant 
thoughts I once cherished. My dear John, never 
let us allow any distrust or any jealous feelings to 
come between us again.” 

“ My noble girl,” he murmured, bending over 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


203 


the little hand, “I do not deserve such generous 
treatment ; truly, the depths of a woman’s love are 
beyond comprehension !” 

“ Now, tell me,” Gertrude said, “ how you over 
happened to think of personating the widower,” 
and he began at the time when his jealousy was 
first aroused, because she took such an interest in 
the widower’s children, — “Oh, the foolish John !” 
interrupted Gertrude, — and how he asked the ad- 
vice of Guion and Holden, and all the scoldings 
they had given him, and at last made him ashamed 
of the ignoble part he had been acting. 

“If you had not been ashamed I should never 
have forgiven you,” she said. 

Then he showed her his will, which amused 
even wdiile it vexed her, as she said, “To think 
my John could write such a foolish thing.” Still 
the reconciliation was too sincere for it to be more 
than a passing ripple on the deep sea of their hap- 
piness. 

After John had told all his experiences Ger- 
trude had to relate hers, and he came to the con- 
clusion long before she was through that though 
he had performed his part successfully she had 
been the most clever of the two, and he appreciated 
the character of his betrothed as he had never 
done before, even though he had been so deeply in 
love. 


204 


A ROMANCE OF 


“Let us go and tell the others,” suggested the 
lady, about an hour afterward. “ Nettie is much 
annoyed at the devotion you and I show towards 
each other. Come !” and she arose, and taking his 
arm, walked towards the group, comprising all on 
board. 

“ Mrs. Guion,” said Gertrude, solemnly, “ I 
have come to you to announce my engagement to 
— John Church !” and she put up her hand and 
pulled off the wig, beard, and spectacles, revealing 
a very shamefaced gentleman to the astonished 
party. 

For a moment no one spoke, their amazement 
being too great for words ; then the chaperone 
began to scold, but not in a very terrible manner, 
and the others to question, until John put his 
hands over his ears, and exclaimed : 

“ Guion and Phil can tell as much as I can ; 
they helped me carry out the plan.” 

“ I never thought my husband would conspire 
against me,” said Mrs. Guion, reproachfully. 

“ I assure you he did not want to do so,” said 
John. “I had to persuade him, and then was 
afraid all the time he would tell, and spoil my 
plot.” 

“ You did well, Mr. Church, but Gertrude did 
better ; she knew you immediately, she says, and 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


205 


neither you nor your fellow-conspirators ever 
imagined she too was acting.” 

“ Yes, I did,” said Guion. “ I wouldn’t believe 
Miss Gertrude could do wrong, and so I suspected 
she was the wisest of the four, and told the others 
so, but they would not believe me.” 

“ Thank you for your trust,” was the grateful 
reply of Gertrude, ‘‘ every one else misunderstood 
me, as I meant they should,” — she added, after a 
pause, “ I was determined to be as accomplished 
an actress as John was an actor.” 

“ And you succeeded, my dear,” said the cha- 
perone, “ I was never more completely deceived in 
my life.” 

“Your — aw — vocation is — aw — the stage, not 
the — aw — arena. Miss Wood,” remarked Philip, 
“ but then — aw — you are a shining — aw — light, no 
matter where — aw — you are,” and my lord made a 
very low bow before her. 

“ Philip,” asked John, gravely, some time after 
all the questions had been asked and answered, and 
the party were over their astonishment, “ didn’t I 
hear you say we would be at Long Branch to-mor- 
row ?” 

“ Ah ! yes,” was the reply. 

“ Then,” said John rising, and making a bow to 
the company, “ Gertrude and I are going on shore 
to be married, and I invite you all to the wedding. 


206 


A JiOMAJVOB OF 


which will, necessarily, be very quiet, but as long 
as it marries us I don’t care for fuss.” 

“ Why, John,” cried his lady-love, in great sur- 
prise, “ I can’t do that. You must be crazy. I 
haven’t any clothes, and then, I don’t want to be 
married in such an unceremonious fashion.” 

“ But I am afraid you will slip away from me, 
as you have been so near doing,” he said, plead- 
ingly. 

“ I never thought of slipping away. That was 
your own diseased imagination,” she retorted. 

It is out of the question,” said the chaperone, 
decidedly ; “ her father and mother would be very 
much displeased, and to incur their displeasure 
would be a sorry ending to our delightful excur- 
sion.” 

“ No, John, it is an impossibility,” said Ger- 
trude, in a not-to-be-persuaded tone, “ but in a 
month you shall have your wish, provided papa 
and mamma are willing, and I have my wardrobe 
finished,” she added, in an undertone to Helen. 

“Well,” he said, ruefully, “I suppose I must 
wait ; but I do not particularly enjoy the jn'ospect ; 
I fear something may again come between us, my 
dearest,” he whispered, bending over her. 

“ Helen,” said Philip, rapidly and earnestly, 
leaning over her until his cheek touched her hair, 
‘‘give me my answer now. Are you fully decided? 


A YACHTING PARTY. 


207 


If not, I will have to ask my mother to persuade 
you to accept me.” 

“ There is no need,” she answered, with a tender 
smile, “ for I am already fully persuaded.” 

Two days after the occurrences just related our 
party landed at New Brighton, all brown as so 
many old salts, and all charmed with their de- 
lightful trip, even though there had been some 
heart-burnings and petty jealousies ; but for all 
that the unanimous opinion was, ‘‘All’s well that 
ends well.” 

They separated only to meet a fortnight later 
at the grand party given by Mrs. Holden, in honor 
of her son’s engagement to Helen Moss, and it may 
be mentioned as a noteworthy fact, that there was 
more than enough to eat ; and in another fortnight 
all assembled at Christ C«iiuroh tg witness the mar- 
riage of John Church and Gertrude Wood. 


THE END. 





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